Dramionic Drift: variations of drabbles, varying frequency
by LightofEvolution
Summary: A collection of drabbles written for different occasions. Enjoy! Rated M for language and adult situations in some drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I swore I don't want or need a drabble collection. Really, I firmly believed that. But this week, I looked at all the drabbles I've written so far and thought maybe someone here likes to read them?**

 **The collection is an unrelated series of drabbles written for different occasions. Some just for fun, some were prompted, some for little comps. All of them have been published in different fb groups or on tumblr or on my own fb page. Most of them are Dramione.**

 **As a rule, they're unbeta'ed. So, no, I don't want to hear that there are errors. I know that. But if you want to leave a review, you're welcome!**

 **Disclaimer for all of them: The characters aren't mine and I don't make any money with this.**

* * *

 **This was written for Draco's birthday in June:**

Draco stood in front of the bathroom mirror, scrutinizing himself critically. There were some wrinkles next to his eyes—laughing lines, he supposed (a definite first within the Malfoy legacy). His hairline was...still where it used to be, and the grey of his irises was as bright as ever.

"I'm starting to think that this platinum colour is a mere tactic to cover grey hairs," came the warm voice from the door, where his wife leaned, her silken nightgown clinging perfectly to her curves. Especially around her rounded middle.

"Absolutely not!" Draco stated, pouting a bit.

Hermione giggled, approaching him. She sneaked her arms around him and slipped under his. "Don't worry, you're getting more attractive every day. You're still turning more witches' head than I like."

"As long as I'm still turning yours…" he trailed off, peppering open-mouthed kisses along her neck. He wanted desperately to unwrap his favorite present when a scream resonated from downstairs.

 _"DAD! Happy birthday!"_

Draco groaned into Hermione's curls.

"Why are you screaming like that, Scorpius?"

 _"Because Uncle Harry said old people like you lose their hearing!"_

His wife laughed, a lovely sound he couldn't get enough of. Ever.

"Then remind Potter that he's not even two months younger than me!"

 _"Okay!"_

"Best floo over and tell him personally!"

 _"Will do, Dad!"_

"Wow, I didn't expect him to actually go!" the now 37-year-old wizard wondered.

"Well, I might have sent Ginny an owl, telling her to prepare some extra breakfast for our little munchkin."

"You're a genius!" Draco cheered, enveloping his fabulous witch in a searing kiss.

"Hmmmh, I know. Let's see what you think of me when you see what's beneath this bathrobe."

He was a Slytherin, after all, and sneaked a peak.

"Happy birthday, Draco."

Oh, yes, Draco was a happy man indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This one was written just for fun. I experimented a bit, so this is dialogue only.**

 **Warnings and Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

 **Setting: the Granger's kitchen, around the year 2003-ish (which isn't random, but the reason is mine ;))**

* * *

"So his name is Draco, yes?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Who in their sane mind names their child after an aggressive reptile?"

"It's a tradition in his family to name the children after constellations. So, when Draco and I have children-"

"If."

"What?"

" _If_ Draco and you have children!"

"Oh come on Dad, last Christmas it was you who demanded to finally get a grandchild for the next!"

"That was before you told me you took a dive into the snake pit."

A pause.

"Is he smart, at least?"

"Yes, very."

"As intelligent as you?"

"Almost."

"That's as good as it gets, I think. Manners?"

"Perfect, if he's in the mood."

"Good. If I ever have to explain the importance of fork and knife over dinner…"

"He isn't Ron!"

"No, I guess. He's a redeemed Bad Boy from what I remember. One with pretty women throwing themselves at him."

"Daaaaad!"

"Does he respect you and your dreams? Does he support you? Do you support him?"

"To Hell and back."

"Good. I'm indeed expecting grandchildren for Christmas."

"It's June! How would that even work?"

"Oh, sweet pea, I didn't mean _this_ year. How does 2020 sound for you?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: THANK YOU for the lovely rewies and the follows/favorites, I surely didn't expect them due to the character of a drabble collection. This is a Harmony one. And I am not sorry. I started as a Harmony-shipper, and it still is my OTP2.**

 **If you like Harmony, you should definitely check out MrBenzedrine's "The Secret" (a one-shot that will really blow your mind) and Ariel Riddle's "World Changer" (a WIP that is awe-inspiring!).**

 **This was written for a fb-group, but sadly, I didn't write the prompt or the group down (silly me).**

* * *

They say bad boys have good lips. They say loose lips sink ships.

Lips could be sealed. Lips could be locked.

But all Hermione could think about at the moments was how _his_ lips felt.

His lips trailing over her neck, sending shivers through her entire body. His lips enclosing around her nipples, unexpected, yet familiar. His lips mapping out her whole body, leading the shivering witch to the brink of pleading and beyond.

"Please…!"

He chuckled darkly, an unknown, enticing power radiating from him. Magic, lust, and a power to make her his. A power to make him hers.

"I won't be able to keep my hands off you when we begin this. It's going to change everything."

She answered by pulling him on top of her, her legs firmly enclosing his waist. A fire awakening where their skin touched, like the friendly, steadily warming fireplace morphing into all-consuming heat.

Understanding, he positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock brushing against her wetness, causing them both to moan. They locked eyes when he entered her.

A moment as if time had stopped. A moment between a woman and a man. The war was raging around them, people fought and died, power was used and abused. And yet, this moment could change everything.

Buried in her to the hilt, her pussy clenching in anticipation around him, she wanted, no, needed him to move. A slight shift of her hips broke the spell, and the wizard closed his eyes in rapture for a moment. When he opened them again, his green eyes were almost black from lust.

" _Move_ , Harry," she whispered.

And as he obeyed, Hermione knew he was right: this was going to change everything.

For the better.

Or the worst.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hi there! Thank you to each of you who follows and reviews and reads this stories. I'm glad you like my drabbles.**  
 **This one is Dramione again, written for the weekly drabble challenge in the fb group Dramione Fanfiction Forum (if I remember correctly)**  
 **Prompts were: red heels, torn parchment, rain clouds (and maybe umbrella)**

 **Remember, all of these drabbles are unbeta'ed.**

* * *

Red heels. Torn parchment. Rain clouds.

How that all fit together, you ask? Well, Hermione could tell a very emotional, swear-words filled story about that. At least about the heels and the parchment. The clouds were something she hadn't taken into consideration when she stormed off from the festivities, and that they decided to open the flood gates the exact moment when she stomped very un-ladylike on the parchment with said heels just made it all worse.

"Looking good, Granger." Great. Exactly the person she needed. To blow off some steam. In the form of curses and hexes.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"Can't a gentleman pay a compliment to a pretty witch?"

"Not when you are the one paying it and the witch in question is drowning in her misery, looking like I do at the moment. And with drowning I don't mean in alcohol, but rain." Hermione gestured to the mass of thick, wet curls that had fallen from her carefully braided and pinned bun. Then, she pointed to the mud stains on her blood red heels. Stomping on embarrassing break-up notes did that to shoes, even if they still looked gorgeous.

Draco, of course, looked annoyingly handsome in his tailored black dress robes with the emerald green tie and his platinum blond hair that gave him a somewhat casual, but still poised appearance. Then, she noticed that she no longer felt the rain tickling on the exposed part of her back. Draco sodding Malfoy held an umbrella over her.

"Yeah, it would be much more fun for the both of us if you drowned in alcohol, don't you think? Especially since you should be partying because you're finally free of the weasel."

"Ron…" she choked back a sob, the mentioning of her now ex-boyfriend almost re-opening her own floodgates, and she hated herself for showing such weakness in front of the blond menace. Hell, in front of anyone.

"The dumb one, yes," Draco established. "The one whose IQ and magical ability you've surpassed when you learned to breathe. The one who wants a mother, not a girlfriend. The one who insulted and shunned you through the years of our education." Hermione snorted mirthlessly at the last sentence. "Oh wait, the last one could also be me, I suppose," Draco admitted, his voice suddenly devoid of sarcasm.

Curious, Hermione looked up from the bench she was sitting on and was met with eyes the colour of storm clouds. The intensity of his gaze stopped her tears. "Definitely," she admitted, then cleared her throat that was raw from all the crying and swearing, making the decision that she had enough of both for now. "I made quite a dramatic departure from the party, didn't I?"

"Not particularly diverging from what I've seen from Gryffindors in general, no. Though, you left the impression of an exceptionally beautiful avenging angel when you stormed out." He smirked and winked at her, and Hermione didn't like what that did to her. She went for the blunt way and asked: "Either you have a weird way of complimenting a witch or you're hitting on a recently dumped woman. I don't know what's worse. Or more Slytherin, in your case."

The storm clouds had long brightened - both in his eyes and in the sky above them. Draco folded the (ironically blue and yellow) umbrella and extended and offered his arm to her, still smirking. "Why don't we find out if there's something in between?"

She didn't know why she accepted his offer and linked her arm through his, her hand resting on the crook of his elbow. Was it because she didn't want to waste this evening by moping after having spent so long getting ready for it? Was it because her meeting with Ron today had been the last breath of what they both knew was a dying relationship, and, for once, he had been smarter than her and ended things officially (even if it was cowardly on a piece of parchment)? Or was it because she felt drawn to Draco's presence so close to her, leading her back inside, past the dancing wizards and witches and straight to the bar?

Hermione really didn't know. But she would to find out.

And if the red heels found themselves hanging on a certain blond's bedpost, who cared? She'd have another story to tell then.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hi! Another Dramione! I can't remember for what occasion I wrote it (silly me)...**

 **Enjoy? Drop me a little review? That would be great!**

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"He told me he loved me." Hermione sighed.

Ginny gestured at her to continue. "And?"

"I couldn't say it back."

"But why not?"

"Because the stupid git had just fallen off his broom and had a concussion! And that was the first time I saw Malfoy after graduation!"

"Well, then he was lucky that Healer Granger was on duty at St. Mungo's."

"Mmh."

"You haven't hexed his pretty bum just because his head wasn't right, have you? Merlin, Hermione, have you seen him on a broom? He's practically flying sex!"

"No, I haven't, Gin. That would be highly unprofessional! And you're married!" The brunette rolled her eyes.

"That's why I need you to be adventurous!"

Hermione grinned. "Thankfully I could heal him shortly after he sniffed my hair."

"And then he simply left?" Ginny couldn't believe it.

"Yes, that's the purpose of my job: heal people so they can leave healthy again!"

"I can't believe you let him walk away. It's been ages since you got laid! And you already got a declaration of love from him!"

"And he apologized for that. Extensively. With a coffee."

"That's cute."

"What was even cuter was that he brought the coffee to my bed." Hermione smiled sheepishly at her friend. Ginny's squeals could be heard at the street.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Welcome to another drabble, and a huge THANK YOU to all of you who took your time to review, follow, or read this little collection.**

 **This drabble was written for last week's drabble challenge in the facebook group Dramione Fanfiction forum.**  
 **It is a Dramionarry one, and originally I wanted to add it to "Eight legs, Three hearts, One family". I decided against that because it somehow didn't fit.**

 **Prompts: "This can't be happening!" silk tie, candlelight, fireplace (had to be Draco, Hermione, and someone else)**

 **As always, unbeta'ed.**

* * *

Harry stepped through the fireplace, stomping and sweating on this hot day in April. Fiddling with the tie around his neck, he swore, "Godric's genitals! This can't be happening!" Since three o'clock in the afternoon he had tried to loosen the offending piece of fabric, but it wouldn't budge. Though, he had to admit, the purple colour matched his Auror robes perfectly and accentuated his green eyes.

"What can't be happening? That you're distributing the soot all over our living room? Because I can assure you: that is happening in this very moment!" Hermione commented drily, pointing at the mess her best-friend-turned-lover made.

"'Mione!" Harry whined, approaching his favourite woman.

"Oh, don't you ' _Mione_ me. You know how I hate that, and it won't make it more probable to help you out of your self-imposed misery." Despite her words, she stepped closer and pressed a soft kiss on Harry's mouth. He relaxed immediately, the whole day's weight falling from his shoulders. Just when she let her tongue glide over his lips, seducing him to open up to her, he stopped in his movements.

"Wait! Self-imposed?"

Hermione nodded, rolling her eyes at the interruption. "Yes, you didn't _have_ to chose this particular silk tie today, did you?"

"Actually, I didn't chose it…"

Hermione smirked at Harry's confused expression, a smirk strongly reminiscent of the blond wizard in their unexpected, unconventional, and yet so very happy and fulfilling relationship.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It was Draco who chose it and…" Harry trailed off, thinking about this morning.

"And fastened it around your neck with those clever fingers of his?" Hermione finished for him, her brown eyes twinkling with something between mischief and curiosity.

"How do you-"

"You sometimes forget we're sharing the bed with the Brightest Witch of her Age, Potter," an amused baritone drawled from closely behind Hermione. Though she wasn't surprised about Draco's sudden appearance, shivers travelled down her spine, alerted by the seduction in his voice. As if some kind of remote had been switched, the atmosphere in the room had changed. Draco had perfected this special skill of his in the past year; when he was in a certain mood, he could control, or rather dominate the room with a simple word. And what followed then was usually delicious and sinful.

Now he reached around Hermione's waist, brushing against the sides of her breasts with full purpose, and fastened his hands around the tie. Harry, who had finally caught up with the fact that this was one of Draco's perfect games, looked at his two lovers. "What kind of tie is this exactly?" he asked.

Draco gently steered Hermione closer to Harry, effectively caging her in between the two of them. In high anticipation, the witch looped her fingers through Harry's belt and let her head fall back to the blond wizard's shoulders behind her. The Malfoy heir lowered his voice even further, whispering a quick spell under his breath to lighten the candles in the entire room before explaining, "This, Harry, is a special tie I purchased just for you to use. Or maybe," he loosened the knot of it without complications, "just to be used _on_ you."

Harry gasped, and Hermione almost moaned at the possibilities triggered by those simple words. The raven-haired man, apparently, expected similar things, for his eyes flickered darkly in the candlelight.

Hermione then turned her head, giving Draco's earlobe a fast nip, and spoke huskily, "What do you think? Do you want to use it to tie him to the bed, or blindfold him? Because I'd be delighted either way."

"Minx," the blond teased before addressing Harry, "Did you hear what our witch said?"

"Loud and clear." A tremble in his voice showed his excitement, and he cupped Hermione's cheeks, trailing his thumb over her lips.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco asked. It was a little ritual he followed whenever they tried something new in bed.

"With you two by my side? Never!" Harry answered, as he always did, before lowering his head and kissing Hermione passionately.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Another Dramione, ladies (and gentlemen - if theres a male reading this, please raise your hand).**

 **This is another Dramione. Though, most of the descriptions are actual ones of my husband. We've been together for 14 years, and I've had the pleasure to give him many backrubs over the years. Should you ever read this, darling, this one is dedicated to you. I've been in a rough place in the past two years, and you cried with me, held me, and took my violent and self-destructive moods with a stride. Now I finally know we are enough. You and me and our love that's not designed to include a third or fourth heart.**

 **We. Are. Enough.**

 **The phrase "sweet baby dragons" was created by my awesome friend MrBenzedrine amd isn't mine.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy was totally helpless.

His limbs dangled uselessly at his sides; the control over his body was practically non-existent.

He moaned, and the sound he emanated was soul-consuming.

Hermione loved it when her boyfriend was in this state of deep relaxation. Her fingertips trailed over the pale skin of his back, forming circles, letters, nonsensical patterns, while he made sounds of utter delight. Sometimes, when she reached his head, her fingernails scraped his scalp and his moans reached an almost sexual quality.

She loved the quiet evenings with him when he wasn't deep in Auror missions with Harry and she not too involved in her job at St. Mungo's. Just him and her and a movie. Though, she doubted he had opened his stunning grey eyes in the last 30 minutes to watch Stargate because he was lost in the oblivion of her loving treatment. In those moments, his soul was naked before her. He was exposed and raw, and lay all his love and trust on her care - or that's what she told herself.

Suddenly, the Floo swooshed and Draco made a sound of utter displeasure. Hermione giggled at it, his rumbling sound warming her heart even more.

"Blaise, why are you interrupting?"

The blond's best friends tsked through the green flames, taking in Draco's state of undress - you couldn't have a decent back rub with your shirt on, right? - wincing, while Hermione continued her treatment and Draco sighed.

"Salazar, you really should close your floo connection when you're going at it, Malfoy! Those sounds you're making! Like a lion in heat!"

"Zabini, what do you want?"

"I wanted to see if you're up for a bit of pub crawling in Diagon Alley tonight, but I see you're occupied."

Hermione kneaded the hard muscles above Draco's shoulder blade, eliciting a loud moan from him. "Ten points to Slytherin for their striking observational skills," the brunette witch answered instead of her distracted better half.

The Italian chuckled. "Okay then, I'm going to leave you alone now. But please refrain from making sweet baby dragons until after the wedding, yes?"

Hermione laughed when Blaise disappeared again. However, Draco had only processed tidbits of the conversation. "So, Blaise will finally tie the knot with the Weaselette? Took him long enough."

Hermione scowled, " _Him?_ How long will it take _you?_ " She was only half teasing.

"I can't very well put a ring on your finger when you're half way on stroking me into oblivion."

"I could stop." Her fingers left his warm skin, tingling from the ongoing touch.

"No!" he objected, blindly grabbing her wrist and steering her hand back to his neck.

"Just continue, please! Five more minutes?" he pouted, the eyes still closed. Warmth spread in Hermione's heart as it did every time when he was so vulnerable like he was now.

"What do I get when I keep this up?" she asked and resumed kneading and touching his skin.

"You know that already," he answered, his lips curling into a smile that was half teasing, half seducing. They both were aware that usually a long round of lovemaking followed these cuddling sessions, no matter whose turn it was.

"Three more minutes," Hermione insisted, fully aware but not at least ashamed of how eager she sounded. "And you disconnect the Floo until tomorrow morning."

It wasn't obvious if the moan that followed was a result of her thumbs digging into the muscles of his lower back or the anticipation of what would happen in their bedroom in some minutes. "Anything you want, Princess."

Hermione smiled. He was hers as much as she was his, no matter if there was already a ring on her finger or not.

All was good.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I can't find the words to describe how much the reactions to my last drabble touched my heart. Your kind words, your encouragment, and the feeling of support are truly overwhelming and lifted my spirit endlessly. Thank you so much!**

 **This hilarious piece was written as an answer to a post on MotherofBulls' facebook page. I'll leave it to your imagination to what it was about.**  
 **While we're at it, you should definitely check out her stories: "Hot for Teacher" is a favourite of mine!**

* * *

"Didn't you meet with Harry today?" Hermione was a bit reluctant to ask Draco this because when those two met, everything could come out of it: from a snow storm in Diagon Alley caused by a duel to a punch drunk Quidditch game ending in St. Mungo's.

"It was certainly...educative."

"Really?" Hermione switched the television off and eyed her boyfried questioningly.

Draco, gracefully sitting down on the sofa next to her, kept a neutral expression. Though, to those who knew him inside out (and Hermione was probably the only person who did that), it was obvious he was up to something.

"Yes. He introduced me to something called internet today."

'Crap,' Hermione thought. What did the Chosen One Who Won't Survive His Best Friend's Wrath show him? Pornography? Internet Sex Shops? The Men's Health Blog? Caught up in her thoughts, the brunette didn't realize that Draco now trailed his fingers over her arms.

"Uuuh, what exactly?" she asked, getting a bit breathless because he now circled her nipples over the fabric of her top.

"I can't remember the exact name of that site, but it was very informative," he answered, lowering his voice to a husky drawl that had to mean it was pornography he had seen.

"Define 'informative'," she pressed, struggling to form a cohesive sentence. That was largely caused by the circumstance that Draco now cupped her breasts, as if weighing them.

He grinned at her unabashedly. "Nothing untowards, love. Something about pancakes."

Hermione opened her eyes which she must have closed for some moments. "Pancakes?" Draco's expression lost all its projected seduction and changed into a playful, boyish smile.

"Yes, pancakes. According to this very reliable site Potter showed me, your beautiful breasts," he lifted them for emphazise as if Hermione didn't know where to find them, "weighed in pancake batter, would result in all of 18 pancakes! Fascinating, isn't it?"

It was difficult to keep a straight face when the love of your life talked about your breasts and pancakes in one sentence while gazing down in adoration to them. Hermione started laughing. She grabbed Draco's face and turned it up to meet his eyes. After gaining her composure, she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, still smiling at the cuteness of him.

"Okay, you've had enough of interneting today. Let's go to bed." As it had been a long day for both of them, Draco nodded, suddenly yawning widely.

The next morning, however, a sight awaited him that caused his stomach to growl and his boxers to tighten - a rather strange combination. But there was his beautiful and sweet witch waiting in the kitchen for him, with nothing more covering her body than a plate with 18 pancakes in her hands.

Yes, Draco concluded, the internet was certainly something magical.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hi there! This one is a hilarious Lucissa/Dramione drabble. It was born from a fb-conversation and I'm pretty sure my dear friend Phinoa gave me the final push. She and I bake mean Christmas cookies together, and if you haven't already, you should definitely check out her work!**

 **Reminder: Not mine, no profit, not beta'ed!**

* * *

"Mrs Malfoy- _Narcissa,_ please put your wand away." The witch in question didn't budge, her bright blue eyes set firmly on the weapon.

"Narcissa, please… you're causing a scene. We don't want the police alerted, right?" Hermione spoke to her boyfriend's mother as if she was approaching a dangerous animal. A snake, probably. Narcissa finally glanced around and noticed the other customers had started looking at her. The hairdresser, a woman in her twenties, observed the stick of wood pointed at her curiously while holding her scissor in one hand.

Luckily, she hadn't focused her attention to Hermione's words - all thanks to a discreetly cast _Confundus_ from the brunette. "So, Missus Moffat-"

"Malfoy, if you will," the older witch corrected bitingly.

"Missus Malfoy, you want your hair curled around this… stick? I can't say I have seen this technique before."

"She's a drummer," Hermione tried to cover lamely, "and forget to unpack her drumsticks at home. But I'm going to hold that one for now, right?" Gently, she pried the wand from Narcissa's grip and stored it away in her beaded bag, wholly concentrating on the task to avoid the blonde's pointed stare.

"Alright. What are we doing today? A new cut, perhaps? Yours is very… classic," the hair stylist said, gesturing at the strict and structured way the blond hairs were pinned back.

"Maybe if you could show us some pictures, it would be easier to choose from." Jeanette (or so her name sign read) nodded in understanding at Hermione. "The colour palette, too." Another nod.

As soon as the woman was gone, Narcissa whispered to Hermione, eying the other customers suspiciously, "They actually… touch your head and… Merlin, which kind of demon is attacking this poor muggle?"

"Kindly keep your voice down, yes?" Hermione hissed through clenched teeth, deeply regretting that she had taken Narcissa with her into the Muggle world as an effort to bond with Draco's mother. After all, things were pretty serious between Hermione and the Malfoy heir. "It's a hair dryer, it blows hot air into the hair to dry it faster."

"That is actually quite useful when you don't have access to house elves or a wand, I suppose. But does it have to be so loud?" she whispered, her curiosity piqued now that hadn't seen anything of immediate danger for her. "What are they doing with your hair?"

"The usual. A bit of a cut, maybe some blonde highlights. A cousin of mine had them done and I liked it."

Narcissa tilted her head. "How do they get your hair change the colour?"

"They apply some chemicals on it to extract the pigments."

"They vanish the colour with a potion?"

"Yes," Hermione confirmed a bit surprised, "Yes, that's a good translation of things. But that's only for blonde. The other colours work the other way around - they put the desired pigments into your hair."

Narcissa, her posture perfectly regal, developed a determined gleam in her bright eyes upon the explanation. "I want that."

"What?"

"I want my hair completely dark," Narcissa explained. "You see, it was almost black until I married Lucius. Something in our marriage bonds shifted my hair to blonde. Something you have to prepare for when you and Draco marry." It did funny things to Hermione's heart to hear the pureblood witch speak so casually about a muggleborn marrying her son and into her family.

"Yes. I am a modern wi- woman, after all. I've had this hairstyle for decades; it's time for something a bit naughty," Narcissa clarified, more to herself than to Hermione, and immediately filed through the book with hairstyles Jeanette had handed her.

Hermione groaned. She may have won Narcissa's sympathy and Draco's love - but Lucius would certainly kill her now.

The door to Lucius Malfoy's study flew open. Just when he wanted to tell off whichever house elf was responsible for the ruckus, the words escaped the Malfoy patriarch when he took in the vision in the doorway.

There she stood, dressed in an untied silken camisole, a dark blue brassiere, knickers and a matching garter belt. Lucius breathing got ragged, and it was suddenly very warm in the room - even when his wife's nipples said otherwise.

"Narcissa…" he stammered, very un-Lucius-like, any rational thoughts escaping him and the blood rushing south. Then, he finally looked at her face - and gasped in sheer admiration. "Cissy, your hair… it is…" Because words didn't suffice anymore, Lucius stepped from behind his desk and approached his wife, divesting himself of his outer robes and unlooping the first buttons of his shirt.

"Do you like it?" A tiny layer of insecurity was laced into her words.

Lucius nodded vehemently, his hands grabbing the dark curls that reached Narcissa's shoulders just so. Silken and heavy, he relished in curling them around his fingers and pulling her face towards his, resting forehead against forehead.

"You're exquisite, my beautiful witch," he drawled huskily, knowing which effect this voice had on the woman in front of him.

Despite being married for so long, Narcissa blushed. "Miss Granger- Hermione brought me into a place in the muggle world called 'hair studio'. Do you like what I have done with my hair?"

Lucius kissed her feverishly then, pulling her body flush against his, so she could feel what her attire did to him and his body. He heard her sigh contently, the sound quickly turning into a breathy moan when his hands started to wander over her body. By Salazar, she was still the most beautiful woman on earth for him!

Suddenly, she pulled away from him, her eyes darkened by her arousal, and a wicked grin spreading on her kiss-swollen lips. "I take it you're as enthralled as I am, then." She closed her hand around his, guiding it between her legs. "But after the hair studio, we visited a place that was specialized on something called 'Brazilian waxing'..."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This one somehow happened yesterday when I had a bit time to write. Written for a writing prompt in the fb group Fan Fiction for Potter lovers! It's kinda fluffy.**  
 **Hope you enjoy this festive piece!**

* * *

Draco came home to find Hermione in near panic. Her normally only unruly curls were frazzled, her face flushed with heat, and her eyes blinking in hectic and annoyance up to the giant Christmas tree. That didn't bode well for her boyfriend. Because usually, he was the one who triggered that state and it was followed by a hex or jinx.

"Hello, love." He carefully wrapped his arms around her from behind as preventive appeasement tactic. "How's your day at the hospital been?" There were two more options why Hermione was so on edge: if it wasn't work, it were his dear parents. He really hoped for the former. Christmas was only two days away, and he didn't need additional venom because it would surely ruin his well-laid plans to give his witch the elegant and distinguished, but still very much sparkly engagement ring. Those that had been in the Black or Malfoy lines for centuries hadn't been appropriate for the times the couple lived in (meaning: full of dark magic and nasty curses).

"Fine, fine. Ron and Harry stopped by," she answered absentmindedly, her eyes trailing over the numerous boxes of tree decoration in front of her.

"For lunch." There was hope her dumb best friends had done something stupid.

"For treatment." Draco's stomach dropped. Had they done something so idiotic that they had caused some serious damage to themselves? That would explain her mood. Because now that he held her in her arms, she seemed more unsettled than angry. The amazing boyfriend he was, Draco was just about to ask for Potter and Weasley when Hermione muttered, "I can't find it. It has to be somewhere!"

"What has to be somewhere?"

"The beautiful star for the top of the tree with the Malfoy crest embedded in it!" she explained as if it was plainly obvious.

"The monstrous thing you had to levitate up last year because it wanted to burn you?"

"Yes, that one. I can't believe we lost it!"

He turned her in her arms and cupped her jaw, smiling. "You're telling me you're on the verge of tears because you can't find something no one is going to pay attention to anyway?" Probably because his father would have a serious medical condition after Draco's proposal with all their friends and family present on Christmas Eve. But he didn't tell her that.

"Draco." Okay, so this time the dangerous glint in her eyes was definitely directed at him. She hated when he didn't take her seriously. He simply loved riling his fierce woman up, as such conversations mostly landed them in more intimate settings."I want to show your parents that I honor their traditions. Well, at least those that don't involve too much dark magic - which leaves only a handful."

He couldn't help it. Draco pressed his lips on hers in an urgent kiss. What had he done to hold this witch in his arms? This witch who was hunted, hexed, and hated by his ancestors, even his father because she was so different from them and yet superior in her magic and moral compass. And she was concerned because she couldn't find a mildly cursed object that generations of Malfoys had pinned to their Christmas tree! "I love you," he whispered into the kiss, her moaned response swallowed by his tongue chasing hers.

The atmosphere grew into something frantic, desperate, passionate. They didn't talk about the star again.

Draco had to admit, he almost forgot about the incident (the loss of the star, not what happened afterwards), until the big dinner on Christmas Eve. So far, the evening was a huge success. His father had been silenced by his mother at some point, presumably when Molly Weasley had pushed a very red and green sweater over his son's head and welcomed him to the red-headed family through this rite of passage.

The Malfoy heir was in the process of pouring himself a bit of Dutch courage as the group was in the process of assembling around the (starless) tree for the exchange of gifts. And that meant - it was time. Time to grow some "Gryffindor balls" (as the Weasel had said when he and Potter had accompanied him to pick a ring) and pop the most important question of his entire life.

As the expensive whiskey filled the tumbler, Draco heard a strange noise from behind the drink table. It sounded as if glass was crunched. Carefully, hand nearly searching for his wand, the wizard leaned forward to see whatever caused the sound.

Comfortably sitting in the corner, the fur illuminated by the many floating candles in the room sat Crookshanks, his paws holding onto something sparkly, so his teeth could work on it successfully.

"What did you steal, Crooks?" Draco admonished the beast, but the pet remained utterly unimpressed. He raised his head to blink at the human meaningfully.

And then Draco saw it. The object Crookshanks had sunk his teeth in and was on the best way of destroying completely.

The star.

The crest it bore was already torn apart, and it had a hole in the size of a Galleon in it.

Draco grinned at Crookshanks, and he had to cough to cover a full-bellied laugh. The half-kneazle had humour.

"I couldn't agree more with you. Time to crush some of the old traditions, right?"

The animal purred loudly before it continued to crunch another part of the star.

"Right. Here we go." After a big gulp from the tumbler and a comforting pat on the small box resting in his suit pocket, he turned on his heels and approached Hermione.

Draco took both of her hands, relishing the smile on her face. He announced, with an unmistakingly nervous tremble in his voice, "If you would all listen to me for a moment? I'd like to give Hermione my gift."

Then, he went down on one knee.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Happy holidays, my dear readers! This drabble is more of a one shot really. Originally, the answer to this prompt was part of the "Make my wish come true" Christmas fest of the Dramione Fanfiction Forum on fb/AO3. The deadline was on the 20th of December, and I couldn't make it in time due to a hell lot of work in the past weeks. So I dropped out with a story planned out and halfway written. Still, I couldn't leave it unfinished and finally had time to work on it today.**

 **As usual, this isn't beta'ed - you may keep all the mistakes you find as Christmas presents XD**

 **Happy holidays to you all!**

 **The prompt was: "Make me, Granger." Hermione laughed, "In your dreams, Malfoy." 'Oh Merlin, right there,' Hermione thought.**

* * *

 _*The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade, December 15th*_

"Bite me."

"Make me, Granger."

Hermione laughed, "In your dreams, Malfoy." ' _Oh Merlin, right there,'_ Hermione thought, looking at his perfect bottom lip. She blinked, willing away the haze of lust threatening to overcome her. No, no, _no_ , she refused to give in. Because, _really_ , it was just a silly crush she had to will away.

Yet, dreams and, ironically, the resulting lack of sleep was what made Hermione's mood on edge these days.

The foundations for her problem were built when she and Draco Malfoy had started working together as lawyers for the Ministry of Magic, directly subordinated to the Minister himself. A prestigious position, but one they had earned by working hard for different departments. And their job demanded utmost dedication, working many hours, and a keen hand for public relations - the latter one being more Draco's strength, the former more hers. Professionally speaking, they made an invincible team. In terms of social interactions, however, they continued the banter, snark and occasional hex from their time at Hogwarts - though, Harry had admitted, impressed, their tone lacked in real malice and insults.

So, Hermione's problem was (and that stays between you and me, right? Unbreakable Vow and all?) that she had developed a bit of a crush on Draco she didn't want to acknowledge yet. How could she not? He was intelligent, well-read, and very easy on the eye with his soft, blond hair...and his grey, piercing eyes...

The witch's problem wasn't the crush itself. The complication was that she couldn't really overcome it as she planned to because he was everywhere.

At work.

In her private life.

 _Everywhere._

He had ferreted his way into her private life because as he was still Pansy's friend and she was Harry's, they naturally met on many occasions with Harry and Pansy being an item (less improbable things have happened…). A similar disposition concerned Ginny and Blaise. When Hermione found herself watching one of the Harpies matches, Draco conveniently was also there to, "accompany Blaise."

No wonder that the blond wizard had claimed a guest role in her dreams. Okay, it wasn't only a guest role. He was the main character. And her dreams had basically turned into porn. Rather spectacular, one might add. She usually woke up with her underwear drenched, panting.

And now that Christmas was around the corner, it got even worse: office parties, dinners with important clients, mulled wine, cheery mood... and with his unerring sense of duty, Draco attended every single one of them. Hermione asked herself why, by Merlin, he had found it necessary to develop some conscientiousness. Probably sometime between the final battle and when his shoulders had broadened into something she, uh, _a witch_ would very much like to hold on while she rode him into oblivion.

Hermione shook her head to get rid of the unbidden desires and concentrated on their current argument. It stemmed from the fact that coming Saturday, coincidentally December the 24rd, it was either Draco's or Hermione's turn to invite their circle of friends for dinner; they wanted to combine that with an exchange of gifts. All would be there: Pansy and Harry, Ginny and Blaise, Theo and Luna, Ron and Lavender, Neville and Hannah...all couples.

And _that_ made Hermione want to prove that she could host an event on her own. Without perfectly timed couple speak. The fierce witch wanted to prove that she was good on her own, didn't need someone to help her, assist her.

The problem was: either Draco had the same idea or he just wanted to ruin her plans. Because when they sat around the table in Hannah's pub, the small paper had read 'Hermione/Draco'.

"Ron, what did you think?" Hermione glared at her friend as it had been Ron who had scribbled the names on some paper. "It's clearly Hermione _or_ Draco, right?" she insisted, but Pansy interjected, "If you ask me, it's Hermione _and_ Draco for sure! Don't you agree, Harry, love?" Harry-love shrugged, clearly wanting to avoid an argument with either his best friend or his girlfriend. Which he would lose either way.

One after the other, their friends insisted they host the dinner together. Hermione's ire grew with every approval of Pansy's statement. She clearly needed to rouse a troll and a war to make some new friends.

"Come on, Hermione, Christmas is a time of peace and forgiving. Maybe start at yourself this time?" His drawl pulled two different strings in her: one that wanted to strangle him upon this challenge; the other one wanted to insist that spending time with him and his male body made very much sense. Both let her to one conclusion - she couldn't back down.

' _All seem to say, throw cares away,'_ the Carol of the Bells, one of her favourite Christmas carols said. And Hermione did just that when she nodded at Draco, signalling that she accepted his challenge.

* * *

 _*Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, London, December 20th*_

"No _fucking_ way!"

"Language, Granger!"

"I don't care! I won't celebrate our Christmas fest in your cold, dark, pretentious Malfoy Manor!" At the sound of her voice, several Ministry workers in the atrium turned their heads.

"And now I'm going home to spend my evening in my _tiny_ flat where I can curse all I want! That's what you called my home just minutes ago, right?" Ignoring his next try to say something, she turned on her heel and already had the floo powder in her hand when a firm grasp on her hand stopped her. Reflexively, she threw the arm back, sprinkling the powder on the person who manhandled her in the process. She turned her head around, about to ask the person how they dared to approach someone who's been through a war like that- but the image of Draco Malfoy staring at her utterly discombobulated, his perfectly groomed hair and face covered in floo powder was too funny. As a result, she broke out in giggles, his expression relaxing at that.

When she had quieted down, he looked at her quite sheepishly, and Hermione felt obligated to explain herself. "Malfoy, it's not-"

"I understand," he stopped her, and she seldomly had seen him so somber. "It's not a place of happy memories for you. And, for a certain time, it wasn't for me either. But I spent a lot of time and money to renovate and make it a home again. Would you give it a chance?" Unspoken lay the question between them if she was willing to trust him.

"Well," she sniffed dramatically, "the manor is a _bit_ larger than my flat, I suppose."

She forced herself to glare at him when his lips curled into a boyish grin. "It has enough space for a very large Christmas tree, at least." It was the hopeful timbre in his voice that won her over.

Damn Malfoy and his charm.

* * *

 _*Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, December 24th, 7 am*_

[We're switching into Draco's head for this scene, because it might be interesting what went on behind the platinum blond tresses of his.]

The wizard stumbled into the kitchen, half awake, in search of one of the divine _espressi_ Blaise had taught the elves to brew. Today, he really needed it because his sleep had been anything but restful. Or rather, not in the classic sense. It had certainly been _vivid_ , due to none other than a certain curly haired witch.

Running his hand through his platinum locks, he was about to call for one of the house elves, when-

"Careful, Malfoy! I don't want you to ruin my precious cookies!"

He groaned. There, only a few feet away from him, she was - the very witch who had caused some body parts to be awake ahead of the rest of him. Hermione Granger stood in his kitchen. Irritated, he blinked again, chasing away the remainders of sleep.

If he wouldn't know better, he'd say there was an angel standing in his kitchen. His heartbeat accelerated, and his jaw dropped. Decked in flour, the hair pulled into an unruly ponytail, the face flushed, she was a vision. So full of life, the energy flowing around her when she commanded the kitchen around her. Had she always been like that?

"Draco! Kick your arse into gear and help me! These cookies won't bake themselves, you know?" She stepped from behind the counter, poured something into a cup and handed that to him. "Here, I even brewed you some coffee. I'm trying, after all." This time, she smiled at him. And when Draco tasted the steaming hot beverage in the cup, he knew that, maybe, his assumptions hadn't been too wrong. Maybe she was an angel. But he'd rather burn in Hell than admit that yet.

* * *

 _*Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, December 24th, 1 pm*_

Later on, they decorated the giant Christmas tree. Draco begrudgingly so (though, Hermione thought he stared at her backside), Hermione with enthusiasm.

Part of his resistance might have had something to do with the fact that she insisted on doing it the muggle way instead of levitating the decoration.

She stood at the top of the ladder, singing 'God rest ye merry gentlemen' when it happened. Not blessed with the coordination and grace of a Quidditch player as so many of her friends, she lost her balance - ironically when trying to fasten a tiny Snitch on one of the highest twigs: Hermione slipped, shrieking in surprise and fear of hitting the floor.

But that didn't happen. Quite the opposite, actually. Her eyes still closed, she felt Draco's voice caressing the side of her neck. "Fear not then, said the Angel?" She could practically _hear_ his smirk.

Opening her eyes again, she ignored how bloody good it felt to be enveloped by two strong arms, and replied, "You hardly qualify as angel just because you have this ridiculously bright hair and those iridescent grey eyes…" she trailed off, realizing she had paid him a huge compliment just now. His smirk stilled, obviously overpowered by the words coming from her mouth.

"Uhm, I guess I wanted to thank you…" she stammered, and couldn't help to register that his hands remained on her waist, although he had set her feet to the ground.

The contact made her face grow quite hot. Trelawny's teapot, did she blush? She willed her body to suppress the visceral reaction. Please, not again! The incident in the morning had been more than enough when he had entered his kitchen in nothing but his pajamas and looking so adorable that she had nearly dropped the eggs. It had certainly done funny things to her ovaries.

"I guess you're welcome," Draco answered now, none the wittier with his words this time.

He breathed out, forcefully, and then asked, "Firewhiskey?"

She nodded with so much vigour that her curls tickled his face. "Definitely!"

* * *

 _*Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, 8 am*_

"You owe me 50 Galleons, Pansy!" Ron announced, setting his cutlery finally aside. Though, Hermione wouldn't judge him - the dinner had been one that rivalled the one in Hogwarts on Christmas Eve. Luckily, they were now old enough to legally help digesting the heavenly food with highly alcoholic beverages.

"You weasel-sized idiot!" Pansy hissed.

While Hermione watched the exchange with interest, Draco frowned. "Pansy, what did you do?"

"Nothing." Perfect Slytherin answer. That made Hermione suspicious.

"Ron, what does Pansy owe you money for?" she pressed.

Ron's face took an ugly red colour that clashed horribly with his hair. "N-nothing." Perfect Gryffindor answer. When you got caught in the Chamber of Secrets with one hand down the throat of the Basilisk.

"Ronald," she seethed, noticing their conversation had caught the attention of everyone at the table. Blaise grinned - that didn't bode well.

"Okay, okay!" Ron raised his hands in defeat. "There was a bet…"

Hermione groaned, reflexively grabbing the hand of the person next to her. Which, by Founder's luck, was the Master of the Manor himself.

"Actually, Hermione, we all were involved," came a strong voice from further down the table.

"Neville?"

"Spill it, Pans!" Draco confronted his friend, his voice so deep it made Hermione want to relieve herself of unnecessary clothing - namely: her underwear.

Pansy, using placing her hand on her belly protectively (she and Harry had announced they were expecting earlier) and pouting as placating tactics, explained, "Remember when Ron drew you and Hermione's name out of the bowl a while ago? Well, that wasn't exactly a coincidence…"

"You set us up?" Hermione had counted two and two together and added the Slytherin factor to the equation. Still clutching to Draco's hand, she asked, "What makes you all think it worked?"

"The evidence is more than plain," Harry stepped in, shoving his Auror voice in front of him as protective shield. "The manor was still standing when we arrived; you smiled at each other," he counted on his fingers, "Malfoy constantly had one hand at your back or your hip, and, finally, you're holding his hand, Hermione!"

Hermione paled, following the facts and activating her memory.

And Harry was right. In all points.

She looked at Draco who in turn fixed his irresistible grey eyes on her. He gave her hand a squeeze and winked at her, smirking. What did he want?

It didn't matter. She trusted him. Hermione squeezed back.

"It seems we've been found out, love." Draco lifted their intertwined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on hers. Goodbye knickers.

"No way we're keeping up the facade, right?" she said, the wobble in her voice no pretend at all.

"No. But that's what our dear friends wanted to achieve. What interests me more is what exactly did you bet on?"

Ron seemed to be ready to flee. Pansy, on the other hand, had no such reservations, "It wasn't even on whether you two would be together when arrived. It was more whether you managed to be decently clothed when we do."

* * *

 _*Master bedroom of Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, December 25th, 1:30 am*_

Sometime after dinner, Hermione must have fallen asleep on the sofa in one of the manor's living rooms. All she remembered was the pleasant buzz from the firewhiskey she had drunken and the feel of Draco's shoulder beneath her head. She had leaned against him - all to keep up the pretense, of course.

Though, she obviously hadn't stayed there. She awoke now to the feeling of soft sheets under and a fluffy blanket around her. And the distinct scent of Draco. She waited a bit until she could gather her surroundings in the almost dark room, and almost immediately spotted someone looking at her from an armchair.

"Did you have pleasant dreams, _love_?" Draco intoned quietly, his voice making her shiver despite the warmth.

"No dreams this time," Hermione replied as quietly, extending her hand towards him. "Come closer, I don't bite."

With a thoughtful expression on his face, he took her hand. Hermione was more than aware that this was not a game as they had made their friends believe. This was real. "Aren't you afraid that _I_ might bite _you?_ "

"Maybe I want you to?" she deadpanned and received a smile as answer.

He rose from the chair and climbed into his bed, his sheer presence enough to make her breathing hitch. "Try me, Granger," he invited her when his arms settled down on her waist and his face hovered so close to hers that they shared the same air.

"Oh, don't worry. I will." And with that, Hermione kissed him. For now, without biting involved, but with many dreams about to turn into reality.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I hope you ll had some peaceful days over the holidays!**  
 **This drabble here came to be as result of a prompt I received in celebration of 100 followers on tumblr (yeah, that's not much, but I don't care). rowanoffelederen prompted: dramione, divorce lawyers, as many side pairings as possible**

 **I had so much fun writing this! Though, divorce is mentioned a lot, if this is a sensitive topic for anyone...**

* * *

With the end of the Second Wizarding War came a slow change in the society. It was a long way to go, especially concerning the rights of werewolves and veelas. But when the dust had finally settled, it became apparent that the post-war euphoria brought yet different changes.

Divorces.

Yes, you read correctly. There were many fast weddings held in 1998, and not all, by far, survived the first decade. For Hermione, however, it was dramatic to see so many relationships dissolve, to be a shoulder to cry on for many of her friends, but... it also provided her with a stable income.

Hermione had become a lawyer, specialized in family law. Essentially, she was a divorce lawyer, and one of the best, at that. But admittedly, today's cause was a tough one.

"Missus Potter, you say you haven't seen this man except during official outings?" Hermione addressed Ginny, and pointed at Blaise Zabini, who sat in the second row, looking like sin on legs.

"That's right. I met him on Ministry galas and such; I am, or rather was, required to visit those events at my husband's side, after all."

"Are you absolutely certain?" Hermione pressed.

Ginny's lawyer, Draco Malfoy, stepped closer to his client. So close, in fact, that Hermione felt unwilling emotions welling up in the pit of her stomach. The blond whispered something into her ear, his slender fingers wrapped around the redhead's forearm. Hermione's friend nodded at his words, and Draco slid into his seat again.

"Well, Mister Malfoy just reminded me that there could have been an opportunity where Mister Zabini and I met under more...private circumstances."

"Explain." Hermione knew there was more behind Ginny's story and that Draco probably gave her the advice to admit a smaller detail to make herself believable.

"We both played Quidditch for our respective houses back at Hogwarts, and after one exceptionally heated game in my seventh year, I ran into Blaise in the showers…"

The brunette focused on Ginny, but let her gaze wander over to Draco for a split second. His left eyebrow twitched. Perfect. "Did you have a sexual encounter then?"

"Yes." The audience gasped. Hermione felt Harry tensing - the last thing he wanted was public humiliation.

"May I remind the present witches and wizards that my client and Missus Potter weren't a couple back then?"

"I contradict that, Mister Malfoy." Confidently, Hermione left her seat and advanced Draco, who also stood in front of his table now.

"Do you now?" As if she were a mere fly on the wall, he straightened his perfectly tailored robes. "Have you actual proof? Or are you answering back just for the sake of it?"

Hermione reminded herself to stay cool. He provoked her on purpose. "You both played, you say, Missus Potter? The only Gryffindor-Slytherin game Mister Zabini took part as member of the Slytherin team in Missus Potter's seventh year was in April 1999. Harry Potter and his girlfriend, namely Ginny Weasley, had their first official outing a a couple in March. The Daily Prophet printed some photos of them. I can call upon numerous witnesses as well." Here, she pointed at Ron and Pansy who sat in the hearing as well. On opposite sides, of course - the divorce eight months after their shotgun wedding (and six after their son's birth) had been one of the first occasions where Hermione had met Draco in the courtroom.

Draco paled, evidently remembering the Quidditch game as well. Though, he didn't seem fazed otherwise when he spoke, "I'm not sure if I have to put in a request to replace Mister Potter's lawyer. To me, she seems quite biased. She and Auror Potter have been known to be friends for a long time, and, if I may cite the Prophet as well, supposedly had an affair as well."

Hermione fumed. He tried to turn the trial by making her position dubious! "Despite the falseness of this rumours, may I remind that in the case Malfoy against Malfoy the wife, Astoria Malfoy, was allowed to chose her sister, Daphne Nott, as her lawyer?"

"And may I remind you that the present case and the one my dear colleague mentioned are of wholly different nature? The Malfoy divorce was an amicable one to end an arranged pureblood marriage," Draco countered.

"I remember," the judge said, slightly unnerved from yet another round of banter between Draco and Hermione. "Could we go on? I'd like to focus on visitation rights for now. The two of you have three children, is that correct?" he asked Harry.

Harry straightened his back and answered,"Yes, that's right. James, Albus, and Lily. All three of them not old enough for Hogwarts, yet."

Draco indicated he wanted to speak, and the judge nodded at him. "Mister Potter, you are working as Head Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Aren't you called to work in the middle of the night, or on holidays, to save our world once again? And doing a good job with it, so far, I might add." He smirked at the audience, and the answering sighs of a handful witches annoyed Hermione to no end.

"Yes, I have to be available at all times."

"Objection!" Hermione spoke up. "Mister Malfoy tries to present Mister Potter as incapable to care for his children due to his working hours."

"And Miss Granger tries to pretend that these details aren't important!" Draco drawled, though she noticed his ears going slightly pink.

"Enough!" the judge bellowed, rubbing his temples. "You two are giving me a massive headache again!" He breathed out heavily and then rose from his chair. "I think we should continue this after a reasonable lunch hour of ninety minutes. And maybe a nice glass of firewhiskey," he mumbled the last words.

After talking to Harry, calming him and saying that all went perfectly well, Hermione looked over her friend's shoulder and connected her gaze with Draco's. 'You. My office,' she mouthed, and the blond answered with a confident wink.

As soon as her office door was closed, Hermione found herself pinned against it, Draco's weight pressing deliciously against her.

"I swear, one day, I take you right in the courtroom in front of everyone!" he growled while making her crazy with his open-mouthed kisses against the side of her neck and his fingers opening her white bloused deftly.

"Tell me that in the morning, and I'll wear some special underwear then." Hermione's hands flew to his shoulders, pushing the black robes away that made his platinum hair stand out even more. With that achieved, she palmed the hard bulge in his trousers.

"Fuck, Hermione." he swore. "Have I told you how much you turn me on in your tight little skirts and your black heels and that fire burning in your eyes when we're in the courtroom?"

Hermione laughed, carefully opening his fly. "You might have mentioned it once or twice." When Draco pulled her in for a passionate kiss and, consequently, a round of passionate love-making, all thoughts of their jobs were forgotten.

Later, when they cuddled on the loveseat she usually used for a comfortable reading experience, their breathing still heavy and their skin damp, Hermione asked in a low voice, "Do you think it will turn out okay for Harry and Ginny? I mean, I'm certain we can negotiate a fair deal for the both of them, but…"

"It hits you hard, doesn't it? To see them breaking up?" Draco whispered, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

"Yes. And part of me even feels bad because…"

The blond laced his fingers through hers, causing their elegant wedding rings to touch, and said, "Because we are so happy together, strange as it seems?" Hermione nodded. "Don't be, we've worked so hard for that."

Their wands, thrown carelessly away at some point, made a buzzing sound, indicating the end of their lunch break. Draco got back to his feet, helping Hermione up with a tug of his hand. "Come on now, my most appreciated adversary, there's a trial waiting for us. And you want to be home before Scorp finally succeeds in giving my parents a heart attack, right?

Hermione giggled. Their nanny had a terrible cold, and so Scorpius had to spend the day with his grandparents - who adored him endlessly, but sometimes underestimated the energy and creativity of a toddler (two words: crayons, portraits). Still smiling, Hermione dressed again, thinking that, despite all the divorces, not all changes were bad.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Ooops! This Harmony drabble originally happened as Mini Saga in the Harmony and Co. fb-group. I struggled with the 100 word limit and decided to expand it a bit...**

 **So, ATTENTION: THIS IS A HARMONY DRABBLE!**

 **And not beta'ed as usual.**

* * *

"I'm not sure we should do this…" Honest concern was apparent in her words. She stood in front of the large mirror in Harry's bedroom in Grimmauld Place, fastening her earrings.

Harry placed his hands on her shoulders, gently, but determinantly. "Hermione, you agreed that this would be a wonderful opportunity."

Despite her mood, her lips curled into a sweet smile. "I was having a post-coital oxytocin rush then."

Swinging her (for the occasion) tamed curls over her shoulder, he pressed kisses to the skin of her neck. "We have to tell him sooner or later..."

Part of her tension lessened upon his touch. "But...what if he doesn't take it well?"

"Then there are many witnesses saying he deserved it when I hex him." Again, he was gentle, but firm in his tone.

"Who says _you_ will be the one to hex him?" Harry chuckled when sparkling brown eyes met his in the mirror. He turned Hermione around in his arms and gave her a chaste kiss on the mouth.

"I want to tell him. He's our best friend, after all."

"And it's his _wedding_."

He showed her how well he had adapted her eye-roll then. "Yes, it is. A celebration of love. Why should share ours with him."

"You are really, really sure?"

"Absolutely. What has you so insecure? That's not you, Hermione."

With a sigh, she leaned her head against his chest. "I know. It's just...I'm not sure Ron will understand. I mean, this," she lifted her head and gestured between the two of them, "is still so new."

"It is. But I don't want you to feel like you're my dirty little secret."

"If someone is dirty, it's you, Mister Potter," she teased him, the flirty and slightly seductive voice conveying that the change in their relationship was absolutely significant. And irreversible.

His answering grin made her knees weak. "Maybe we should let us get caught by Ron somewhere. Do you think he would get the message when he finds us when you're bend over the table in the kitchen and me pounding into you?"

She slapped against his chest, blushing prettily in her plum coloured dress. "You're trying to distract me!"

"And? Does it work?" He grinned.

Interlacing their fingers deliberately, she winked at him and said, "A bit." With a silent _pop_ , Hermione Apparated the both of them to the Burrow.

Since people were used to Harry and Hermione being close, there were no whispers or strange glances when they materialized on the Weasleys' grounds. Though, the new couple refrained from showing any public displays of affections for the moment, even if it was hard for them.

When the ceremony was over and everyone sat laughing, eating, and drinking at huge tables in the summerly smelling garden, Hermione and Harry finally approached Ron and his new, radiantly smiling bride.

"It was such a beautiful ceremony, Susan!" Hermione smiled at the new Missus Weasley. "And you're positively glowing in happiness!"

Susan hugged Hermione and answered, "Thank you so much! I could say the same about you!"

"Well…" Hermione started, hesitating, looking at Harry.

Ron gasped and his gaze was glued to the intertwined hands of his best friends. "Anything you two want to tell me?" His face was blank, and that made Hermione slightly anxious.

"We're together," Harry spoke, his back straight as if he was ready to fight.

"Are you now?" But in this moment, Ron's expression faltered, and he broke out in guwaffing laughter until he had to lean on his wife for support. Susan giggled next to him.

"So you think we're lying, Ronald?" asked Hermione coldly. She hated it when people didn't take her seriously, especially her closest friends. Harry squeezed her hand to calm her, but he looked pretty clueless.

Finally, Ron's laughs had changed into the occasional chuckle. "Not at all, 'Mione." He gave Harry a brotherly clap on the shoulder. "I only think you two were lying to yourselves for the past year or so. The hidden glances, the oh-so casual touches...you drove everyone mad with the unresolved tension between you. And that's coming from someone who has an emotional range of a teaspoon!" Ron and Susan left them standing there then, both speechless. Walking away, Ron yelled, "George, you owe me ten Galleons!"

They didn't know how much longer they stood there, but suddenly, Hermione started giggling. "Merlin, we must have been so oblivious!"

"It seems so. And I pride myself to be an Auror!"" Harry swiftly pulled her into an embrace, laughing. "Feeling better, love?" he whispered into Hermione's ear, doing funny things to her insides with that.

"Much," she answered. "Now, about your idea with the kitchen table…"


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Don't ask me what happened here. I blame the glass of wine I had to drink while writing this. It's a response to the Friday challenge in the Harmony & Co. fb group. It's the first time I wrote something in Snape's POV - the first time I let Severus live, I believe. It plays in the same AU-verse as "Eight legs, Three hearts, One family" and is also Dramionarry. As usual, it's unbeta'ed.**

* * *

Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace in the travelling room of Malfoy Manor - and to say he was in a bad mood was a vast understatement.

He cursed upon the soot on his black robes, his wand work nevertheless precise as he vanished it. The reasons for his mood was simple: Pupils. More precise: the little monsters he tried to teach Potions and who blew up cauldrons instead or poisoned themselves because they didn't pay attention to the instructions.

He mumbled under his breath, regretting the day he agreed to Minerva's pleads to return from his retirement because successor thought it fitting to go on 'parental leave'. Modern times.

Though, Severus pondered while walking through the familiar rooms of the manor, the modern times had also brought changes that surprised him even more. One of them was that it was totally acceptable that his beloved godson lived together with a woman without being married to her. And not only that - Draco's son called his father's girlfriend 'mummy', even though Scorpius' mother was still alive, and the temperamental witch at Draco's was well aware that at one point in the future, they had to explain some things to him.

And somehow, the smart witch and the not-so-ex Potion Master had bonded. It was difficult to say when exactly, but Severus was certain it had been over an argument about the effect of Polyjuice on a person's behaviour.

They drove Draco barmy, whenever they decided to 'improve' his brewing with their bickering and bossines. And such a scheduled meeting was the reason he was in the manor. Snape grinned to himself, his mood improving when thinking about it.

He approached the room in the dungeons where Draco had installed his potion lab, and stopped, irritated when he heart certain, smacking noises. With years and years spent as a professor dealing with hormonal teenagers, Severus knew exactly what caused those noises. Snogging. And intense one at that.

Rolling his eyes, he stepped into the room - and any sarcastic comment died a violent death in his throat.

There stood his godson in all his blond glory, his arms leaning on the wall. But under his lips, there wasn't a brunette, stubborn, curly-haired witch.

It was a wizard.

A raven-haired, bespectacled, idiotic wizard that had caused several of his dark hairs to grey.

Something in Severus' brain short-circuited. Or maybe even in his dark, dead heart. Anyway, he pulled his wand and pressed it firmly pressed it to his godson's neck.

With an unholy sound, Draco's lips parted from- "Potter. What a… surprise to meet you here."

The expression in the Head Auror's face was almost comical. But he wasn't Snape's priority now. Replacing his wand with a firm grip of his hand, he pulled Draco away. By his ear.

"And you, my dear godson - how dare you! How dare you to disappoint me this way? How dare you to betray your witch this way? No!" he yelled when Draco opened his mouth to speak, both forgetting the wide-eyed wizard still leaning at the wall. "There is no reason! Get it in your stupid, useless blond head of yours: she is the best thing that could ever happen to you! Especially after money-digging bitch Astoria was! And then you go and betray her with her best friend! You better grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness for your sins!"

"Lover."

Severus' head turned around so fast it caused him an unpleasant whiplash.

"Pardon?" he said, looking at the curly haired witch as if he had seen a ghost.

"Harry is not only my best friend, but also lover," Hermione Granger corrected Severus with a know-it-all air that would kill him one day. "Our lover."

Snape turned back to his smirking godson, his face probably turning into a grimace. "Salazar, Draco! All the pureblood traditions you decided, rightly decided, to ban - and you pick a triad as the one to stick to?"

His answer came in the form of a smile in three faces. And Draco who confidently drawled, "Obviously."

Severus sank into a nearby chair. "I demand a firewhiskey and a very good explanation now."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Caution: This isn't a Valentine story. But it's quite fluffy and sweet, much more than I expected when I started writing it. This drabble belongs to a drawing MrBenzedrine made; it shows a little blond haired boy in a green and a little brown haired girl in a red dragon costume looking at each other. The boy moves his hands a bit. Something melted in me when I saw it and I finally found the courage to write something family fluffy again after struggling with it for a long while.**

 **This drabble is a gift for MrBenzedrine - just because you're a fantastic friend and woman!**

 **As usual: Not beta'ed. There"cud/be miztakes. BUt only a phew.**

* * *

When you have small children, some things from your adult life B.C. (Before Child) simply ceased to exist. Having a healthy snog or shag in the middle of the living room in broad daylight, for example. Or letting sharp, poisonous potion ingredients (Draco) or valuable ancient books (Hermione) laying around.

Or sleeping in on weekends.

Though, when a parents' body wasn't 'gently' shaken from its well-deserved slumber, it took all the rest it could get.

So when rays of warm and bright sunlight tickled Draco Malfoy's eyelids, he went through two phases of waking up.

Phase one meant gaining consciousness. The wizard stretched, feeling warm and rested and content, and, realizing the witch in his bed was also in the process of waking, he pressed his nose into her neck, inhaling her unique scent. Though, the woman in his arms seemed to have other ideas than to cuddle, for she wriggled her delectable bum against his crotch, awakening entirely other parts of Draco.

After a particularly strong wriggle and an amused snigger from his girlfriend, Draco's mood switched into something more adventurous.

"You little minx," he groaned into her ear, his hands already wandering over her hips.

But then, the blond was catapulted into phase two: panic.

"Oh my God, Draco!"

He chuckled seductively against her neck. "And I haven't even started yet. Wait until-"

"It's half past nine!"

That had him jumping out of his bed like a lightning bolt (pun intended). Not even bothering with a T-shirt or something else to cover himself, he grabbed his wand and ran into the nursery wearing only boxers.

A small reminder: when you have small children, you don't get to sleep in on weekends. Unless something is really amiss.

Especially when Rose wasn't there because she spent the weekend with her father, three-years-old Scorpius usually climbed into Draco and Hermione's bed around eight in the morning. But not today.

Draco threw the door of Scorpius' room open with his wand, thoughts running wild and in panic. Losing your wife made you anxious in situations like these. His heart rapidly sank to his knees when he found the small bed empty. The covers were thrown to the side carelessly, and the child's stuffed hippogriff (a gift from Weasley for Scorpius' third birthday - very funny) had landed on the floor.

" _He's gone!_ " Draco yelled, almost in hysterics, not even thinking of using his wand for a _Point Me!_ at the moment.

"Calm down, I found him." The wizard turned around to find Hermione Granger, his girlfriend and love of his life (though, he would always love Astoria deeply) standing in the doorway. "He's playing in the garden. He's okay, Draco. Come here." She opened her arms, and Draco stepped into her embrace gratefully.

"I overreacted again, right?"

"Yup," she confirmed, but her voice was soft and understanding. "But at least you shouted for me and didn't alert the Auror Squad first-off."

"I can totally do without seeing Head Auror Potter in his Quidditch pyjamas again, followed by twenty heavily armed Aurors because Rose was a bit too good at playing 'hide and seek' and fell asleep behind the fairy tale section of the library." Hermione smiled at that. It had been the first time where it had hit her full force how much Draco had accepted Rose as his child - even with the girl having been born to her and Ron as birthparents. It didn't matter: her daughter had a Dad (Ron) and a Daddy (Draco) now, as well as a 'big brother', although Scorp was only a few months older.

"Do you want to see what the little pumpkin has been up to? He's so adorable!"

"Absolutely. I'm going to have a very stern word with the young man about shocking his father so early in the morning." He took Hermione by the hand, grabbed a simple T-shirt and trousers from the bedroom, and headed for the garden.

"He's three…" Hermione chastised him lightly.

"Right. Then a very stern order to have breakfast with us."

When the couple stepped out and into the garden of Malfoy Manor, Draco didn't immediately spot his son. That was, until he heard a very strange noise and felt instant relief.

"Grrrrrrroarr!"

Then, he saw Scorpius. Dressed in a bright green dragon costume, he merrily made a u-turn around Draco and Hermione, his childrens' broom hovering not more than two feet over the ground.

"By Merlin, there's a dragon in our garden, Draco!" Hermione acted accordingly. "We have to do something about it!"

Scorpius giggled but then growled again, flapping his 'wings' eagerly.

Draco, who struggled to not break out in fits of laughter, admitted loudly, "You are right.I have heard about this dangerous breed. Usually, there are two of them. We're lucky; this is only the green one." He referred to Rose, who had the same costume in red. "We should call Charlie to catch this little beast and bring it back to his family. I'm sure there is a dragon daddy missing his little one awfully."

Scorpius' exhilaration made it impossible for him to stay in his role. "Daddy, Mum, it's me! I'm Scorpius!"

"Noooo! You're clearly a sweet baby dragon!" Hermione swooped the child from his broom and settled him on her hip while Draco tickled him. Naturally, more laughter ensued.

"I am not! I only wear a costume! Look!" He pulled the hood - the dragon's head - down and exposed his soft, platinum blond hair. While his cheekbones and nose were clearly Astoria's heritage, his hair and eyes were all Draco.

"Oh, now I see it. Isn't this the costume Grandma Cissa gave you and Rose for Halloween?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. It was 'bit small first. But then it fits." The boy shrugged. Over his shoulder, she could see Draco's eyes widening. He connected his gaze with her, and she nodded to his unspoken question, agreeing with him. The wizard broke out into a proud smile because, apparently, Scorpius had managed some accidental magic to make the costume fit.

"Are you up for a huge breakfast, even when you're not a dragon?" Draco wanted to know. His son nodded so enthusiastically that his hood slipped onto his head again.

Hermione sat him to his feet carefully, and Scorpius took off to the dining room, his arms moving up and down, roaring happily.

"I think we should start planning our summer vacation in Charlie's dragon reserve," Draco commented while he and Hermione followed him more slowly, hand in hand.

When you have small children, you sometimes have little dragons, too. In the best meaning of the word.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hello, fantastic people" This is one of two drabbles which have been sitting on my computer for some time. I drew the inspiration for it from two drawings by MrBenzedrine. One was dedicated to LondonsLegend (Draco and a puppy), one to Kyonomiko (Draco with a cat).**  
 **These three mean so very much to me, and this is a tiny way to show it.**  
 **As always, this isn't beta'ed. When someone has a problem with the mistakes...well...imagine it as an audio book read with a strong German accent ;)**

* * *

"Draco? You're already home from work?" Hermione asked from her study when she heard her boyfriend stepping out of the floo. Gently, she nudged Crookshanks to get up from her lap. She had done some paperwork and hadn't thought Draco would be home at four in the afternoon. Those Saturday shifts in the Auror Division were always a menace: with the other authorities closed down for the weekend, the men in the purple robes were called for everything and anything, from a stray hex over the neighbour's fence to Nargle manifestations.

Crooks finally yawned and stretched, hopping to the floor with an elegant swirl of his tail. He impatiently waited at the door for Hermione. The relationship between the witch's boyfriend and her somewhat-feline companion was a strange one. When the two humans had started dating, Crookshanks had absolutely declined to be in one house with the blond, showing his opinion of him in random attacks, hissing, and growling. Very slowly, he had accepted the wizard, helped by regular presentations of catnip and goodies. His mistress had only put a foot on that when Draco brought a living mouse - coincidentally, that was the day he suggested they should move together.

Their new house had a fantastic, large garden behind it, and Draco had even installed a cat door. That was when Crookshanks' behaviour was reduced to the usual catlike arrogance (matching that of a real Malfoy). It was when Hermione had been down with a nasty virus she had caught at Saint Mungo's and was in desperate need of many, many cuddles that the two males had found themselves in bed: Draco cuddling the witch from the side, the arms around her, and the familiar curled into _his_ arms on the other side of the woman. That had forged their relationship to something close to symbiotic.

Anyway, the half-kneazle awaited Draco as eager as Hermione, and so they walked down into the bright living room.

"Hi, Draco! You're early. Did something happen?" Hermione asked, noticing the hunched posture and the fact that he turned away upon spotting her.

"Uhhhh…" he brought forth, sinking further into his tailored coat.

"What happened?" she frowned, concern starting to well up. Auror duty could be very dangerous, after all.

Crooks mewed, apparently asking the very same question.

"You see, Harry and I-" the Auror started.

" _Harry_ and you? What did you do?" Hermione grew impatient now, knowing Draco would only call his partner by his first name to appease her.

"We were called by a witch who said she heard strange noises in one corner of her garden. And because some trees had been cut this week, she expected it to be some angry tree ghosts or whatever in a bad mood and didn't go near the source of the noises," Draco explained reluctantly, turning around, but obviously hiding something in his coat. Crooks wriggled his nose, sniffing something strange.

"So Harry and I looked where the noises came from, and under the tree trunks, horribly trapped in between the heavy wood, there was someone crying and whimpering to be saved." The tall wizard finally drew the fabric back, and exposed a puppy to Hermione's curious gaze.

"Draco-"

He started to defend himself, "We don't know where he came from, and we asked around in the neighbourhood if someone missed a Golden Retriever puppy, but anyone did."

"Draco-"

"He looked at me with those puppy eyes like you do when you want something from me, and you know I can't resist those. We haven't talked about adopting a dog, but-" he spoke into the dog's soft fur, burying his face in it, avoiding what he expected to be a rejection from his witch.

"Draco!" Hermione demanded his attention, her voice somewhere between amusement and adoration with a hint of impatience. Finally, Draco looked at her to find her smiling. Interpreting that as a good sign, he stepped closer to her. The witch's heart melted at the sight of her man with a puppy on his arms. That was even worse than seeing him holding a baby!

"He's adorable! We can keep him, I suppose. I don't have the heart to let him go, you silly man!" She cupped the puppy's head, and he wriggled his tail at her, licking her hand enthusiastically. Hermione laughed. "Though, _you're_ going to explain to Crooks why he has to share you now." Opening her arms, she gestured for Draco to transfer the excited puppy to her.

And indeed, Crookshanks was _not_ amused. His tail moving skeptically as he scrutinized the new family member. The familiar had expected that sooner or later someone would invade his kingdom to stay, but he had expected the newcomer to be a screaming bundle of a small human, with all the mating going on. Those were much easier to train, but this other four-legged animal? A _dog_? No, thank you.

He made appropriately disgruntled noises, and Draco scooped him up. Being cuddled improved his mood a bit, but only a fraction.

"Okay Crooks, it seems we have a new family member." The wizard turned around to face Hermione and the puppy. "You have to be nice to him, promise."

" _Meowrrr!_ " He wouldn't promise _anything_!

"No, I promise you will be always our favourite kitty."

" _Mrrrr?_ " Would he? But what about the garden door? That was his alone!

"Yes, he will use the door to the garden once I've enlarged it a bit. But maybe you can show him how to hunt garden gnomes?" The blond suggested, albeit with a tone that admitted no contradiction.

Now that was a deal Crooks could handle. Those little monsters had become too forward in the past months. The half-cat looked at the dog. He would definitely grow in the future, and that might be useful when dealing with that menace of black cat from down the street…

The reluctant approving must have shown on his face, for the wizard said, "See, you will do alright. I'm convinced you'll be getting along splendidly."

Hermione laughed again, to Draco's surprise. "What are you laughing at? You told me to explain things to Crooks."

"That I did!" She stepped up to her tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to her boyfriend's lips. Afterwards, she gave him a fully blown and heart-warming smile. "You're such a soft, big snake."

Draco huffed arrogantly. "Excuse me, witch! You of all people should know there's absolutely _nothing_ soft about my _snake_!"

Hermione winked at him and whispered, "You can prove that again in a bit."

"In a bit?" came the smug reply.

"Yes," she affirmed, "this little mister here is in desperate need of a bath, I'm afraid."

"Right. First bathing the puppy, and then alone-time with our mistress for me." Draco spoke to the feline familiar as Hermione carried the dog upstairs to the bathroom.

" _Mrrrr!_ " Crooks answered and jumped from the man's arms. He knew the 'alone-time' could last hours, but more importantly: he knew how wet dogs smelled, and he wouldn't be anywhere near it then! He took off towards the garden, elated. He'd check the gnome nest to assure they were still there. He had a puppy to train, after all!


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Can I reveal a secret to you? I love cliché fics. Really. (Family) Reunion, hilarious and funny? Throw them at me. Pretend relationship developing into Dramione? Yes, please! So this one is a kinda out-of-control cliché drabble as a reaction to a tumblr prompt by fairystonelove and astreamikaelson13.**  
 **Prompt: "You're so clingy. I love it."**  
 **As usual, this isn't beta'ed.**

* * *

"You just had to try that obscure potion recipe from Salazar Slytherin's archives two hours before you have to attend a party, didn't you?" Draco hissed when Hermione practically threw a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers into his hands.

"And you just had to translate that rune wrongly that made the cauldron explode, didn't you?" she hissed back, flipping the strap of her bright blue and white summer dress back to her shoulder before sticking it to it with a whispered spell.

Walking towards her parents' door, she was glad she had at least informed them about their predicament, leaving the details out. They didn't know that there had been an… let's say 'accident' in the Experimental Charms Department that ended badly. Not badly in the sense of someone destroying their Ministry wing or sending the pest over London (both had already happened), but as soon as they left more than ten feet between them they'd both turn green (literally and figuratively). And she simply couldn't risk vomiting all over her father's rose bushes at his sixtieth birthday garden party in front of her parents' family, colleague and friends. People would think she were pregnant - without a ring on her finger!

"Play nice and don't embarrass me, Malfoy!" Hermione pleaded.

"I'm a Malfoy. We don't embarrass ourselves - not even in front of your muggle family." Balancing flowers and wine in one hand, he straightened his suit jacket. And Hermione had to admit - he looked very nice in it. Just as she felt a blush from her staring rise in her cheeks, the front door opened.

"Hermione, darling! I'm so glad you could make it. Let's have a look at you!" Her mother pulled her into a tight hug before counting her limbs. "You still have both arms and legs, so I can't imagine your accident was that bad."

"Wait until you get to know him," Hermione said.

Making a step forward, Draco reached for Helen Granger's hand and gave her a perfect hand kiss. "Draco Malfoy. A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Granger. I've been told this kind of greeting has run out of fashion here, but I hope you don't mind."

Mrs Granger preened and took the wine and flowers from the man. "Hermione, where did you hide this perfectly mannered young wi- man all the years?"

"In the dungeons. On the sharp side of my wand. On the other side of a bloody war," Hermione muttered under her breath, but her mother didn't listen because Draco smiled at her, showing his perfect white teeth. A dentist's wet dream.

Before her mum debated to adopt him, Hermione shoved the two of them inside and in the direction of the garden, but Mrs Granger disappeared into the kitchen instead.

"Don't I get a tour?" Draco asked hauntingly, and she felt her curls sizzling with magic at his attitude. Really, he was the only man on the planet who made her feel like this.

She turned towards him without letting go of his arm (Merlin, what kind of material was that even? It was so soft!) and seethed, "No. You don't get a tour because even when I keep you close, you're not my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy!"

"Who's the pretty man at your side then if not your boyfriend, 'Mione? Did you hit him with the car?" came a voice from behind her.

Hermione closed her eyes. Oh no. She had hoped - prayed really - that this woman wouldn't come. Opening her eyes again, she looked at Draco desperately, hoping he'd play along. His answering smirk consisted of 100 percent Slytherin mischief. That didn't bode well.

With an expert tug, the blond wizard closed the gap between them and turned her around, settling his hand on her waist and looking at the middle aged woman standing in front of them in the living room.

"Jocasta. What a surprise!" The smile on her face felt forced. It was. Since her childhood, Hermione had disliked her mother's colleague from her earlier work years, and the dislike included the woman's husband and children. "And no, I didn't hit him with the car. That's Draco Malfoy, my-"

"Fiancé." Draco jumped in with a polite smile. Reaching behind his back, she pinched his bum. Only because _Avada Kedavra_ wasn't really an option.

The only reaction visible in Jocasta's face was a widening of her eyes before she turned and practically hastened off into the garden.

Another pinch into Draco's bum.

"Ouch!"

"Fiancé? What, by Merlin, went wrong in that blond brain of yours? You know that the whole party expects you to behave as such now?" Hermione threw her hands into the air in a universal 'What the heck' gesture.

"I wanted to help you!"

"Really? Well-" she stopped mid-rant, realizing that he was honest with her. Her volume lowered a fraction and she pouted a bit. "This way it's certainly plausible to be close all the time. But, mind you, we are expected to touch and _stuff._ Aren't you afraid to catch muggle germs from me?"

Draco smirked, suddenly playful. "We survived a bloody war and three years of co-working. I think I will survive one afternoon being your fiancé." Hermione didn't like the way his eyes fixated on her, and his lowered voice made her shiver. Jesus, she hated the way her body reacted on him more often than not. It was so much easier to argue with him. Turning around to finally cross the living room, she felt her behind behind being pinched.

Draco chuckled at her squeal and commented, "This might even be fun."

* * *

Of course, the whole facade wasn't as easy as it seemed for the two of them.

For instance, there was the fact that Draco, in a perfect imitation of the boyfriend-mode, constantly touched her. Either he splayed his hands over her waist from behind, or had her tucked under one arm, or their fingers interlaced.

It was pure madness.

Despite rationally knowing that this was only a friendly help, and that she didn't feel anything (ahem) for her co-worker, Hermione simply couldn't stop reacting to his physical proximity. He noticed, of course, he did. But, between all the guests, he couldn't openly confront her.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked when he placed both of his hands on her neck and began kneading her shoulders.

"You're so tense, my love. I thought I'd help you relax a bit," he spoke loud enough the bystanders heard - among others, that included a distant cousin of her father who was an avid fan of sappy romance novels.

"Why?" Hermione asked, her head tilted back as if to give her 'fiancé' a kiss on the cheek or a comment meant for only the two of them.

Draco leaned forward to directly whisper into Hermione's ear. "Exactly why I said. Helping you relax. What has your wand in a knot?" Despite her conflicted feelings, she simply let her eyes fall closed and listened to the smooth sound of his voice. "Is it me? I thought we'd get along quite well, despite our academic disputes. And this little facade makes the Slytherin in me rejoice." His lips curled against the shell of her ear, and she really tried to will away the visceral shiver they caused. He really enjoyed this game.

"No," she answered, realizing she meant it honestly. "It isn't you. It's this whole situation. I love my parents. But I haven't felt myself in a company like this since I was admitted to Hogwarts. How can I, if everything I tell them is a white lie?"

"That's because you are a witch, Hermione. And rightfully so." The shiver now ran along her spine for entirely different reasons. In all their time working together, they never had reached such a deep level of conversation. "But furthermore, you're smart, and a Gryffindor to add."

"Did you just pay me a compliment?" she tased back playfully, her voice a bit hoarse due to the absolute devine relaxation he worked into her neck and shoulder. Merlin, was she flirting with Draco?

"I'll deny it in front of the Wizengamot." Louder, he said, "You work too much, love. I'm going to work the rest of the knots in your muscles out when we're at home."

Hermione swore one of the present ladies was about to swoon. She cleared her throat. "Thanks, I needed to hear that." On impulse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek as she had seen her parents do a billion times in casual affection. Draco threw her an indescribable glance - he wasn't appalled, for sure, but there was something in the depth of those grey irises she couldn't decipher. And she didn't have the time to do so, for dear Jocasta waved at her.

"'Mione, finally, you're free! I've been dying to talk to you! Don't you want to join us?" Of course, Jocasta's group had found themselves an empty space next to the table with the alcoholic beverages.

"I wish I could hex her because she used that nickname. I certainly did that to Ron," Hermione spoke to Draco quietly, glad that someone was familiar with the circumstances of her life.

"I know; I was there." He grinned dreamily, apparently fond of the memory.

* * *

"So how long have you known each other, Herms?" Jocasta's daughter Sara asked.

Hermione felt Draco's grip on her arm tighten - to prohibit she'd reflexively grab her wand.

"Hermione and I have known each other since our days on boarding school," Draco answered, leaving Hermione in awe because he he had actually listened to her ramblings about the differences and similarities of muggle and wizard secondary education. Probably, he was the only one. "We didn't…" he grinned that irresistible, sheepish smile that usually accelerated Hermione's (and every straight female's) heartbeat considerably and made her want to 'forget' underwear and contraception, "Let's say we didn't get along well in the first seven years of our schooling."

"Awwww," Sara cooed, placing a manicured hand on Draco's arm, "You, too, went to that awful school for 'special children' in the middle of nowhere? I wouldn't have expected that. You look so-" the blonde let her eyes wander over every delicious inch of Draco's body, "-Normal."

"Sara, I've told more than once that the school we went to is quite exclusive. Only people with special talents get accepted there. Draco's family has a very long history of attending." That was maybe the first time she used Draco's family history to her advantage; and that alone was a testament to the absurdity of the situation.

The approximately three synapses in Sara's neocortex fired, and she finally made the connection of 'Hermione's boarding school' - intelligence - money (after taking in his polished attire, that is). "Oh." That was what came out.

"But you surely didn't have to repeat your final year like 'Mione?" Jocasta piqued up. "Due to those ominous 'special circumstances' that arose while Helen and George spent their sabbatical in Australia?" Her tone did nothing to disguise her curiosity, and Hermione stiffened. Though suddenly, she felt the blond, infuriating wizard next to her rub calming circles on her back. She wasn't proud that she wanted to pull a Crooks then (purring and draping herself over his lap).

"Actually, I did. The circumstances were quite severe, and I'm glad I made it out relatively unscathed." Draco's voice didn't allow for more nosey questions and she thankfully placed a hand on his arm, mouthing a 'thank you'. "But our Hermione here, that much I can tell you, is considered a hero in her circles." He smiled at her, and the honesty made her insides very warm.

"Her circles, my ass," Sara muttered, loud enough for them to hear, "More a bunch of freakish nerds."

Draco tilted his head and raised his eyebrow in a way she had seen his mother do when disapproving of someone's behaviour. "I wouldn't call them 'freakish nerds'. While I can certainly say Hermione's friends and I aren't very close, we have one thing in common: believing this stubborn woman is a true genius. Or can you, Sara, tell me the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Hermione thought she had hallucinations. Her heart tried to escape her ribcage and something exhilarating happened to her brain. Nargles, probably.

"Uh….no?" stammered Sara. The other people around - including her mother - watched the exchange with fascination. Draco, like his father, could command a room if he chose to - he simply rarely did. But now, he stood regal, exuding power - and, quite frankly, it was sexy as Hell.

"See? My brilliant Hermione here-" he pulled the brunette even closer to his body, "mastered that in the first Biology class we attended together." Sara looked as if she was ready to throw herself at Draco.

"You remember that?" Hermione whispered, completely forgetting about her environment.

"Of course. You made me very angry that day. And every day after that, including today. That's why I adore your company so much - you keep me on my toes." He winked, and she stared at him openly.

Before she could process that revelation, however, Hermione's mother called for her from inside the house. Without thinking about it - because her thoughts were occupied by a certain blond co-worker - she turned and walked towards the house.

She made a few steps and heard Jocasta asking, "So you've known each other for quite some time. Yet, I think this engagement comes somewhat surprisingly-" And that was the precise moment Hermione vomited into the next available bush.

Draco promptly rushed to her side, probably more in order to avoid the same fate than to pat her back awkwardly.

Hermione wanted to curse. That was exactly the kind of situation she wanted to avoid. Discreetly and using Draco as cover, she cast a _Scourgify_ to clean herself up.

"On the plus side, we didn't turn green this time! This means it's wearing off," Draco encouraged her with a small smile.

Looking up to the man standing in front of her, she lamented, "On the other side now they will all think I'm pregnant, and that's the reason for our 'engagement'. That's exactly the kind of situation I wanted to avoid!"

Hermione expected Draco to make a biting comment, but instead he smirked. "What? How do I even know that it's my child and heir? Can't say I saw you naked recently, moaning my name, and begging me to let you come all over my-"

"Draco!" she half-chastised, half-laughed at him, feeling slightly hot and bothered.

"Just saying." Another smirk. If he continued like that, she would end up exactly like he just described - and she was certain that he wasn't opposed to the idea.

"What am I going to do now? I can't tell them the truth!"

She saw his inner Slytherin madly at work behind his expressive eyes. "Give me your phone. And you have to play along, promised?"

Without hesitating, Hermione reached for her mobile she used to communicate with Harry and her parents. She trusted Draco - and that even outside their work, as she realised now.

He pocketed the mobile and guided her over to the group they had been standing with.

"Are you okay, Herms?" Sara asked, not hiding her curiosity.

"Yes, I'm feeling better now."

"No, you aren't. We've been warned that this could happen," Draco insisted.

"Oh girl, you're suffering from morning sickness, right?" Jocasta pretended to pity her, but it was clear she smelled a scandal here. Before the woman could place her hand on Hermione's arm, Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Don't touch her!" he spoke in a dangerously low tone.

Jocasta was visibly confused. "The poor dear is only pregnant, not contagious!"

"She isn't pregnant! The other thing however, we can't guarantee…" he drifted off then.

Hermione stood in the middle of it, fascinated upon Draco's acting skills, and stared.

"Mum, didn't Helen say she worked for the Ministry? What if they, you know… work with dangerous gems or something?" Sara, having her one bright moment of the day, suggested her mother quietly. Jocasta's eyebrows flew towards her (dyed) hairline.

"Is it true?" she asked. Hermione's gaze flew to Draco, who nodded imperceptibly.

"I can't tell you details, naturally. Everything we work on is top secret…but there has been an accident today..." Hermione was on the verge of throwing herself to the floor in laughter. Gulping, she nodded in acquiescence. Then, Draco reached for the mobile - after pretending to have recognized a vibration in his pocket.

"Yes," he spoke into it, nodding. "Yes, I understand. That's a relief." A short pause. "Of course, we're coming in." Snapping it closed again, he turned towards Hermione who was staring in awe at him. "That was our Department Head. They've found out you're safe. No lasting effects are to be expected. Still, they ordered us back to fill out the paperwork if you're feeling up to it."

"Uh...I guess, I'm feeling well enough. Though, it would be a pity to leave the party, wouldn't it?" she tried to put disappointment into her voice.

"I'm sure they would all understand," Jocasta said, before leaning in conspiratorially. "So you're not really engaged, right?"

Pressing an entirely unexpected kiss on the witch's cheek that made her blush intensely, Draco deadpanned, "Do you think I'd lie about that?" With a final, "It was a pleasure to meet you, ladies. Come on, love, let's go." Hermione was let towards her parents.

Pressing her face into his shoulder, she hid her giggles. Then, she explained her parents that it would probably better if they excused themselves.

* * *

They Apparated back to the doorstep of Hermione's small house without even talking about it.

"So…"

"So…" they started simultaneously, the atmosphere awkward.

"You first!" she insisted. Draco rubbed the back of his neck with his hand before answering, "What do you think about my first day as fiancé?"

Hermione smiled. "You're clingy. I love it." She winked at him, and suddenly noticed how close to each other they were.

"Clingy?" he asked, stepping even closer.

"Mmmh, yes. Though, you could come a little closer even, I suppose." Her words were barely above a whisper when his arms settled on her hips and hers around his neck. She felt butterflies in her stomach like a teenager when they leaned towards each other.

What starts as a gentle, insecure, romantic first kiss with their lips brushing against each other, quickly changed into something heated when Hermione sighed and opened her mouth a fraction. His tongue searched for hers, and soon they were lost in each other's presence.

All Hermione could feel, smell, and think of was Draco Malfoy for a too short span of time, until they had to stop their making-out session in order to breathe.

When she had a resemblance of control over her thoughts again, she accused, their foreheads touching, "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

"No?" A question, almost shy.

Her answer was brutally honest. "I could jump you right now, Draco."

Apparently, he needed some seconds to process that. Then, he pulled her close again. Very close. "And I wouldn't object." Indeed, Hermione could feel the hard testament of his words between them. Draco cleared his throat. "But shouldn't we take this...slow?"

"That would be the right thing to do, probably," she admitted, albeit reluctantly. "What about dinner tomorrow?"

"Yes. That's a good idea." He was about to let go of her when she stopped him.

"Wait! The potion! What if the effect isn't gone yet?" She really had forgotten about it, the reason of her distraction standing in front of her with his gorgeous eyes and smile. "Don't you want to come in for a bit until we're certain?"

He seemed to search for an answer in her face until he nodded. "Yes, I presume that would be the responsible thing to do." Stepping into her now opened door, Draco leaned in and whispered into her ear, sending goosebumps all over her skin, "Suddenly, I'm somehow glad you had to try the recipe."

"And I'm somehow quite happy of your messed up translation," she whispered back.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Another drabble prompt from tumblr. o0sarena0o wished for something lighthearted and fluffy, and I think I made that come true :).**

 **Prompt: "Why do you only kiss me when I'm sleeping?"**

 **As always, this is unbeta'ed.**

 **The awesome sleepygrimm made an edit, inspired by this little drabble (it's on my fb if you're interested). She's really talented and manages to capture every story's atmosphere perfectly. And she's already created visualisations for MrBenzedrine, Kyonomiko, Olivieblake, Dresupi, ...and I'm fangirling hard over her. If you're on tumblr, look at her profile and consider following her, please.**

* * *

He stood with his face to the bookshelf, deep in the section for obscure medicinal potions, when he felt the tip of a wand pressed into the back of his neck. Draco inhaled sharply, for this wasn't the first time this happened. Nor would it be the last, he supposed.

"Death Eater scum. Can't believe they've let you back into school," a voice behind him hissed in cold fury. Though, from the sound of shuffling feet, they weren't alone. They never were.

"I can't believe they've let an idiot like you hold a wand," he replied. Because he was Draco Malfoy, and he was tired to live through this again and again. One badly executed hex more wouldn't kill him. Especially since the Headmistress had wisely erected wards that prevented lethal harm. Why hasn't anyone before thought of that in the thousand of years the school existed?

Because wizards were arrogant and ignorant and power-hungry. And it took Draco a lot of pain and fear to get that into his brain. All he had left now was his biting sarcasm - and his striking good looks.

"What? Do you think you have the right to speak to me like that?" the person behind him snarled.

He was about to give a reply when he heard another voice speaking up.

"The question is - do _you_ have the right to wave your wand around in the library, at innocent people, that is?" Draco would recognize that voice everywhere. Feeling the wand being removed, he slowly turned around. Four Gryffindor boys, fifth years, he suspected, had cornered him. And the voice, naturally, belonged to Hermione Granger. She stood a few metres away, her hands relaxed around her books, but her eyes held a fire that made the boys duck.

"But...he's a Death Eater! And he belongs to Azkaban for his crimes!" Another boy spoke up.

Granger sighed heavily. "Listen. Do you see some Dark Lord jumping around the corridors of Hogwarts?"

The boys seemed to ponder whether there was a correct answer to Granger's question.

"Nooo, there isn't, as you can see. I should know. I was there when the last one died. As was Malfoy. He was on the other side. But you have his incapable father and whole upbringing and his own idiocy to blame for that. And still, he didn't betray us when he could have. He was brought to trial, where he was declared innocent. End of story." Wow. The way the swottiest witch of their age explained it, Draco's life sounded quite unspectacular. Not that he minded. A lot.

The Gryffindor boys were about to run for cover when Granger added, nonchalantly, "So the next time you think of attacking someone's back and insult him, you're going to see how my spellwork has improved in the war. Are we clear?" Four mumbled, "Yes," were heard.

Draco was...he didn't have time to ponder how he found what had happened, for the witch grabbed his hand. "Come with me," she ordered. She then practically pulled him towards her table.

Not any ordinary table. No. The legendary table noone sat except Hermione Granger. Whenever a first year sat down there, they were practically hauled away, the older students informing them what kind of sacrilege this table was. Even Draco was a bit reluctant to sit down on it, though the woman pushed him into the chair across from hers.

"Chocolate?" she offered, no, ordered, and he had no choice to accept with a nod. Munching on the piece of chocolate she handed him, he had time to gather his thoughts and overcome the absurdity of it all. Granger had already grabbed her quill and parchment and scribbled something on her ever-growing scroll that was her Potions essay.

"Thank you?" His belated thank was more of a question. She silenced him with an impatient gesture of her hand. Not knowing what to do else, Draco retrieved his own Potions stuff from his bag and started working on it.

Two hours and twenty-five minutes later, the witch neatly put her material away and addressed him, "That was a very productive evening. See you tomorrow?"

To his own astonishment, the young wizard nodded and said, "Yes. Have a good night." When the last frizzy curl disappeared behind the bookshelves, Draco shook his head. That had been a strange evening. Not bad. But weird. And, as he grew up in the heart of the wizarding world that was saying a lot.

* * *

After that strange day, they fell into a rhythm of some sorts. They'd meet in the library, sat down at Granger's table, worked in silence, and left after the exchange of some polite words.

Oh. And then there was the chocolate thing.

Every day, one of them brought some chocolate they shared without commenting on it. Sometimes it was dark chocolate, sometimes it was filled with truffles, sometimes plain milk chocolate.

Nothing special, right? Just two schoolmates working together.

Wrong.

The first time Draco felt an urge to...do something was the week Granger broke up with her insolent boyfriend, the Weasel.

She had been grumpy all afternoon, mumbling and grumbling about the, "hopeless prick" and "idiotic Y-chromosome-bearer" under her breath. Draco didn't ask what exactly she meant by that, but the ranting must have worn her out. For when he looked at her an hour later, she had fallen asleep, her head on the table, the quill forgotten in her hand.

For the first time in years, Draco let his eyes wander over the person in front of him. She appeared so peaceful like that. Serene. Vulnerable. Her brown curls were still unmanageable, but now Draco associated them with the unrelenting strength of their owner. Of course, Draco would deny it, but Hermione Granger was a beautiful woman - not the type with big boobs and a pretty face, but the kind of confident beauty that grew the closer you looked.

Ronald Weasley was an idiot to let her go.

Pushing those unholy thoughts back to wherever they suddenly came from, Draco cleared his throat.

No reaction. The witch was still fast asleep.

"Granger," he said, his voice gentle. Nope. Nothing happened.

"Granger, wake up. It's time to go." With more pressure, but again nothing.

"Hermione," he said, more forcefully, accompanied by a careful nudge of his hand against her shoulder.

"What?" That definitely did the trick. She looked at him with wide eyes, waking from a deep slumber - and Draco was a parchment sticking to her cheek, the ink from it on her nose. For a moment, she only stared at him, and Draco began to feel hot, but then she realized the reason for his smile. Removing parchment and ink from her face, she blushed prettily. "Oh, sorry. I must have fallen asleep. Thank you for waking me up, Dra- Malfoy."

That was new. She had almost used his first name. And it wasn't attached to jinxes or curse words. "You're certainly a sight to behold when you wake up. And Draco's fine," he answered boldly, without the smile fading on his lips.

She briefly smiled back before gathering her things and saying, "Thank you for the pleasant evening and good night."

Draco still smiled when she had long left.

He had no idea why.

* * *

"No chocolate for you today." These were the first words Draco got to hear when he sat down.

"What?" He couldn't believe his ears. After all, chocolate and the library table were what held them together!

"Well yes, you had a tart already - that's enough sweet sin for one day."

Draco blinked. And then, Hermione's lips curled into a positively wicked smile. His heart hid somewhere between his kneecaps - she was terrifying.

And drop dead smart. "Tarte as a French tartlet, and also-"

"I know," he interrupted her. "I got it. How come you know about my little _afternoon snack_? And I wouldn't call her a tart."

"I saw you two in the alcove next to the Ancient Runes classroom. Not a very clever hiding place. And Lisbeth certainly has some questionably loose morals when it comes to flirting and such stuff." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. Draco grinned. So Hermione had indeed seen them in a heavy make-out session.

"I won't object that statement; she was definitely willing. And I'm a young wizard with sexual urges." Hermione avoided his eyes, he was sure. She fiddled with her quill, and was she blushing? "No. Are you embarrassed to talk to me about sex?" Yup. She definitely blushed, and very prettily so.

"I'm not!" she replied too fast and too loud.

Their usual work ethic completely forgotten, Draco found himself on familiar territory. His past may have made him something of a social pariah, but he was certainly not short of women these days.

"It's perfectly healthy and normal to talk about it, Hermione." He almost tasted the flirt in the pronunciation of her name. "And I assure you, it's purely physical. Even I need a bit of relief from time to time. Aren't you the same?" He had leaned forward a bit, almost touching her fingers with his. When she shyly lifted her head and peeked up to him through her lashes, Draco knew he had a problem.

"I'm not. I don't want a fast ride on the rollercoaster. I want something lasting and deep." The seriousness in her words made him forget every witty reply about how deep and long lasting he could be. "But all the _boys_ " - she emphasised the last word as if it were an insult- "here at Hogwarts seem to be after a quick roll between the sheets. Or in an alcove."

"Hermione-"

"No. Draco, I don't want to play the prude here, for I think it's perfectly okay for a woman to agree to or even initiate that. I was only teasing you about Lisbeth. But don't make the mistake to think every witch is the same." Ending the discussion with that, Hermione started working, and Draco didn't get a chance to explain himself without sounding like a complete git.

Instead, he waited until she fell asleep again, this time over her Herbology essay.

"It's not as easy as it sounds, Hermione. I know these encounters are just trysts, if even that. They're shallow and fast and get me off. But it's much more difficult to find someone I can really connect with. Someone who understands. Someone who understands my mistakes and still accepts me. Someone who talks to me and sees Draco and not a Malfoy." As he talked, he realized it: This someone he was looking for (without denying the one-night stands were fun to him) sat right in front of him.

The falling asleep seemed to become a usual thing the closer they got to the NEWTS. And the more he saw her sleeping, the more affectionate he got. Not openly, though. Just rearranging the curls so they didn't fall into her face and obstructed her breathing. Just taking the quill from her fingers and brushing against them with his own.

On the other side, they had changed their habits of chocolate-sharing with silence following. The chocolate part stayed, much to Draco's delight. But even better were the conversations they had established. And instead of working at the same time, they now worked together.

Hermione, he found out, wasn't only highly intelligent. She was also funny and not easily offended by his sarcastic sense of humour. Furthermore, he found himself drawn to her smiles and the approval of his ideas. But he knew he was falling for her when he was surprised by the fact that having a heated discussion about the pros and cons of using cultivated plants in potion making turned him on more than a set of openly displayed boobs.

* * *

On a particularly cold day in March - Hermione was on edge because it was the Weasel's birthday, and they've had a bit of a row because she had made an off-handed comment about how ridiculous his new girlfriend looked - he gave into the temptation of her slightly freckled skin and the long dark lashes and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

She mumbled something in her sleep, and he stumbled back into his chair, but she didn't wake up. Not until he started their usual wake-up ritual. Draco was convinced she could hear his heart beating, loud as a hoard of centaurs it rang through his ears.

From then on, he gave in to his urges every evening they studied together and she fell asleep. Just a small, careful kiss. On her forehead. On her curls.

But on a Tuesday weeks later, he wasn't careful enough: she woke when his lips lingered too long on her warm skin, when he inhaled her scent for too many, blissful moments.

"Draco?" He jumped away from her, ready to deny it all, but she placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to level his face with hers and getting lost in her chocolate coloured eyes.

"Why do you only kiss me when I'm sleeping?" She didn't look angry like he had expected, but instead... hopeful?

"I...read a muggle tale about the Sleeping Beauty and wanted to test the theory behind it?" Draco definitely wouldn't win the price for the best excuse with that one. Thankfully, Hermione started laughing. Not a haughty laugh, but a tingling sound that made Draco believe he hadn't ruined it all.

With sudden energy, she jumped up and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "What about we sneak into the kitchens for a hot chocolate? You could tell me the truth then." Draco nodded enthusiastically. A weird evening. A perfect one. Because he had kissed Hermione Granger and she had kissed him back.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: A little drabble I wrote just because. My dearest beta, niffizzle, beta'ed it, even though I hadn't planned on publishing it. All remaining mistakes are mine.**

* * *

"Teenagers can be so impossible!"

Hermione slammed the door closed behind her. Without a greeting, she proceeded into the room and poured herself a large tumbler of firewhisky from the not-so-secret stash.

"And you're just now realising this?" Draco drawled. "What exactly has your knickers in a twist, Granger?"

She glared at him. "'Granger,' is it? I thought we had moved past that? Last names are so end of last school year."

He chuckled, but made space for her on the sofa he sat on. She promptly placed her pert bottom next to him. "Alright, I concede. What caused this mood?"

"I got hit with a stray spell in a Defense lesson."

"That happens."

"No, _really_?"

"You're adapting that sarcastic tone like you do when you're explaining O.W.L. level material to Potter and Weasley," he accused lightly.

She slapped him on the arm. "That's because you're interrupting me just like they do when they think they are so cool with their Auror stuff!"

He raised his hands in defeat. "Fine, I am all ears. You got hit by a stray spell. And then?"

"I tripped," she mumbled, staring at her neatly manicured nails.

Draco tried his best not to laugh at Hermione. For someone so controlled and capable and brilliant, she really was clumsy at times.

"But that's not even the end of it! With one foot, I stepped on my robes, which pulled down my clothes, and then with the other, I stepped on the hem of this blasted skirt!"

"The robes are part of the dress code," he said to refrain from laughing. "The long skirt, however, you wear because you choose to." He smirked, just a little.

"I am not yet done with the story." Suddenly, she blushed. "I landed on my knees, my butt in the air, and my skirt had ridden down-"

"No!" Draco exclaimed.

"Yes."

" _No_."

"Oh, yes. I basically exposed my underwear to the entire seventh year Defense class. My Slytherin green, lace trimmed, knickers-"

"Oh, Hermione-"

"- Reading 'Stir my cauldron, Professor!'" Her blush had spread to the top of her breasts. "The girls were giggling the whole lesson after that. The boys just sat there, an empty expression on their faces. We're going to be the school gossip by tomorrow."

Only his pureblood upbringing prohibited Draco from either laughing or being embarrassed. Of course, she still noticed his amusement and poked his side.

" _You_ insisted on meeting me over lunch break!" she accused, but lacking bite.

"But it was _you_ who decided to put on these knickers!"

"Yes! Because I love dressing up for you!"

He gave an appreciative smirk. "And you love your naughty lunch breaks with the Potions Professor, Miss Granger, don't you?" His voice dropped low and he saw her shivering slightly.

"I do, Professor. But I'd also hoped to keep our clandestine meetings to ourselves for a bit." She got on her knees and crawled over to him, practically laying over his lap now.

"I don't mind showing you off." He let his hands wander over her shoulders and arms and down to her backside where he gave her behind a hearty squeeze.

"I know. But maybe we should start off more subtle than this." Hermione lifted her skirt, and Draco could feel the silk beneath his fingers.

"Hand holding in public?" he suggested, roaming his palms over her bum, before reaching under it to spread her thighs.

"An excellent idea." Her voice was quite breathy. "But first-"

"First we should add another round of detention, don't you think, Miss Granger?" He infused his voice with that fraction of dominance she so loved when they played. Then, he gave her arse a slap, and she promptly moaned.

"Yes, I definitely need another round." She peeked up to him from beneath her dark lashes and Draco knew he couldn't get any harder. "Though, tomorrow it's time for you to visit the Restricted section of my personal Defense library."

"It would be my pleasure, Professor Granger." Especially the _restricted_ part.

Finally, his fingers inches beneath the exclusive fabric. Unnecessarily to say, the knickers didn't remain on Hermione much longer.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Just a little drabble I wrote yesterday when someone in the Strictly Dramione fb group asked for recommendations for stories containing Draco with glasses. Heart of Aspen's The Eagle's Nest was mentioned several times, so if you like him like this, check this wonderful author's story (all of them, really) out.**

 **Proceed with caution because this wasn't beta'ed ;)**

* * *

When Hermione entered Draco's office, she saw him covering something on his desk with a report.

"What are you hiding there?"

"Nothing!" But Draco's answer came too fast.

Hermione frowned. "Come on, I don't have the time for your games today; I need these reports!"

Draco blushed. Actually blushed.

Hermione instantly forgot the reports; this was too good.

She had seen him stark naked, sweating, doing many naughty things to her and with her, and his cheeks had never so much as pinked.

Whatever made him blush had to be epic.

Swaying her hips on purpose, she walked over to his desk.

"Is everything alright with my favourite co-worker?" She stepped closer to him and leaned against the desk.

"Yes, of course. What about you? You're looking stunning today," he complimented and smirked confidently, his eyes raking over her snug blue blouse he so loved to see on her (and divest her of).

"Thank you." Hermione smiled at him, leaning closer and connecting their gazes. One of her hands gripped his tie, pulling his face towards hers.

The other wandered over Draco's desk.

"So if you're being honest to me, you don't mind me looking under that parchment?"

He jumped up, bringing her out of balance.

One arm caught her waist, catching her, while the other gripped her hand which had closed around the object he had hidden.

He was blushing again.

"Don't, Hermione," he drawled, intentionally, knowing it would sent shivers down her spine.

However, it was too late. She already knew what he didn't want her to see.

Surprised, she opened her hand and looked at it more closely.

"Glasses? You're wearing _glasses_ , Draco? Why didn't you tell me?"

" _Reading glasses_ ," he admitted, sulking. "And I didn't tell anyone because... I look like an idiot with it."

"Let me see." She grinned and set the glasses on the top of his nose.

He blinked at her, waiting for her judgment.

"Say it, I look like an idiot."

This time, it was Hermione who was blushing. And it wasn't due to embarrassment.

"I disagree." Her fingers wandered over his chest until the cane to rest on his shoulders. She pulled him towards her so she could whisper into his ear,"You're looking like a very smart, very sexy librarian."

His hand tightened on her waist.

"Really?"

"Really. And I very much like you to punish me for bringing back books too late."

He gasped and played along. "You know my library is my favourite heirloom, Miss Granger."

"I know."

"Tonight, six o'clock?" He dared giving her a gentle kiss on her nose. Entirely failing to convey it was just a 'co-workers with benefits' thing between them.

Hermione smiled at his gentleness, enjoying it endlessly. "I'll be there." She stepped away from the desk, already missing the physical connection.

She turned around one last time before she left the office, but not without taking the reports with her.

"And, Draco?"

He sat in his chair again, quill in hand.

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare taking the glasses off tonight."


End file.
